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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30039048">Kintsugi - repairing broken pottery with gold</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfALotOfDifferentWorlds/pseuds/QueenOfALotOfDifferentWorlds'>QueenOfALotOfDifferentWorlds</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(but don't worry it's nothing like my Slow Burn series so you'll be fine), Abuse, Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bad BDSM Etiquette, DS AU, Dark elements, Dom Bucky Barnes, Dom Steve Rogers, Dom/sub, Don't get me wrong, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Established Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Good BDSM Etiquette, Happy Ending, Healing, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, I'll tag if I remember things I fogot, I'm not sure how explicit I'm going to go into what happened, I'm so bad at tagging it's not even funny anymore, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kneeling, Learning to life with the aftermath, Maybe - Freeform, Mentioning of Abuse, Multi, Obadaiah is the worst, Or family, Our boys are fine, Panic Attacks, Protective Avengers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Clint Barton, Protective James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Protective Pepper Potts, Protective Steve Rogers, Recovery, Sarcasm, Sex, Slow Burn, Sub Tony Stark, Swearing, Tony Being Tony, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Ty is not that much better, We'll see what happens - Freeform, and because... Tony, and he gets one, as a coping mechanism, but before that: suffering, but it won't magically heal years of abuse, but there will be mentions of physical abuse, but they will fall fast and hard for our boy Tony, from Ty and Obi, getting better, having help to deal with it, having supporting partners, healing process, helps immensly, how much sarcasm is too much sarcasm?, if you're unsure if you can read this, like I'm not sure what I'm doing... but let's find out together!, mentioning of torture maybe?, message me and I'll answer any and all questions, no magical healing through finding a partner, not from our boys, or friends, or you guys tell me, please be careful while reading this, please read the notes for specific warnings for chapters, probably, we'll see</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:13:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>67,958</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30039048</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfALotOfDifferentWorlds/pseuds/QueenOfALotOfDifferentWorlds</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark is not at all bitter about being a submissive. Not at all. Why should he be? Sure, his whole life has been one shit show after another, because he is a sub, but why would he be bitter about it? No. Reason. At All. </p><p>Then he meets "The Avengers" a group of people helping abused subs. They are good people. Even the two Doms working there. </p><p>Not that Tony notices them or anything. They might look like they fell right out of his dreams, but it's not like he is interested, you know. </p><p>And who would ever want someone as broken as him?</p><p>(This is not an original set up. But I really wanted to write it. So: hurt, comfort, boys in love, lots of sarcasm and people being protective of Tony. There will be no magical healing because he got boyfriends. But he will get better, he will have help!)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clint Barton &amp; Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes &amp; Tony Stark, Pepper Potts &amp; Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Tony Stark &amp; Avengers Team</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>451</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>871</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Waiting For Updates - Marvel</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Tony: Just another Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkymuch/gifts">snarkymuch</a>.</li>


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28905735">between wanting and needing</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkymuch/pseuds/snarkymuch">snarkymuch</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey everyone, </p><p>Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel - shocking man I know. And I don’t make money off of this. Also I have no idea what I'm doing :D </p><p>Still, if you want to, follow me while I unapologetically self-indulge myself this is the work for you! For me it is a story to get into the whole Ds-Dynamic. Because it fascinates me. And I really, really, really wanted to write Steve/Tony/Bucky.</p><p>So. This. </p><p>I will not abandon this. But my main story is "Slow Burn - The Series!". So I don't know how often I will be able to post something new :)</p><p>To my "longterm-readers": this is going to be significantly different. Probably a lot darker than my other works.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tony didn’t have a problem with his second gender being a submissive.</p><p>And why should he? The laws in the last twenty years had changed to a point they were almost viewed as equal to dominants. Almost human, really. Not fully, of course. Who in their right mind would give <em>subs </em>equal rights? And hello, wasn’t it nice to have his father’s voice back in his head. How happy he was that that acidic, alcoholic, bullshit spewing asshole was still living rent free in his head, after all these years.</p><p>Back to his pep talk. Submissives had rights by now. They stayed their own person when entering a contract or accepting a collar. And most often they weren’t even sold like cattle anymore. What was there to be resentful about?</p><p>Hell, there had actually been cases in court where the submissive had won, proving that there in fact could be unwanted violence against people in relationships. Who could have known? Like, in one case the court had found the dominant guilty of not reacting to the submissive’s safe word. Like they were actually a <em>person</em> with needs and limits that should be respected.</p><p>Of course, now there were movements declaring submissives were becoming weak, as more and more cases of violent against them became public. It couldn’t <em>possibly </em>be that the cases had always been there and just no one (dominants) had cared for it, right? Nope. It was the subs becoming weak and entitled when they started to have the right to say no.</p><p>But Tony didn’t have any problem with his second gender. None at all.</p><p>Of course, he had had to work twice as hard to be seen as anything more than the token submissive when he went to college (but he showed all those entitled asshole-dominants that he might be younger and a submissive, but he was so much more brilliant than them, it wasn’t even funny. Not even to him, having to work with them).</p><p>And the board of Stark Industries didn’t want him as the CEO. Because no submissive would ever be able to do that, job, right? Sitting on their fat asses not doing <em>anything</em>. How could he <em>ever</em> do that as a submissive? Absolutely unthinkable!</p><p>But no worries, <em>Howard</em>, his A+ parent, not being a dick-headed dominant at all, made sure that his disgrace of a son would never be able to take his rightful place, writing it in his will, that it would go to Obadiah Stane. It was karmic vengeance that it would come out, years later, that it had been Obi who had hired the assassin to kill the Starks. Only sparing his <em>golden goose</em> to milk Tony for everything he could.</p><p>For that, he not only killed his parents (okay, that might have not been the worst to be honest, being rid of Howard had been a small blessing and his mother, a severely abused sub, hadn’t even been able to protect herself let alone her son), but also introduced him to Ty. And not only had he set him up with one of the worst sadists he could find, but he also messed with Tony’s meds, making him more amiable in the beginning and then pump him full of pain meds so that he could work despite what Ty would do to him. Making him a drug addict again, after he had <em>just </em>gotten clean.</p><p>Thank god for Pepper and Rhodey, who, when they realized something was up – mostly because Tony wouldn’t meet them anymore, because he wasn’t allowed to, because he was too hurt to move, too out of it to even realize what was happening and broken in ways he didn’t think he could break after surviving his childhood – did everything to get him back. 

And they did get him back. After almost a year of being Ty’s slave, it took them two weeks until they were able to get someone to listen to them, to make someone investigate. Another nine months of a <em>brutal</em> court fight that went from bad to worse to hell and back again, just to start over again, when it came out that the weapons Tony was designing were sold to terrorists. When it came out that Obi, his fucking godfather, had planned everything. When it came out that he had killed his parents.</p><p>The first three months, Tony hadn’t been there, being submitted to a hospital because of the extensive injuries, his broken mental state and, of course, being addicted to pain meds.</p><p>When he was healthy enough to be dragged in front of the court and the world press, he was. And got presented with everything. Facing a prison sentence himself, before his lawyers, Rhodey and Pepper could prove, that he didn’t have any idea about what was going on. And how would he have been able to? He hadn’t been allowed to do more than invent and built – and that was before Ty came into the picture, and – literally – chaining him up in the basement.</p><p>That, of course, didn’t stop the right wing from declaring, all of this could have only happened because he was a submissive. That got only worse when he became CEO, a few months later and closed the weapons departments, focussing on clean energy, communication devices and protection for submissives.</p><p>Without his doing, and while living through some of the worst months of his live – and that fucking said something, even if he had just turned twenty-six a couple months back – had become the face of a movement overnight. The picture of him leaving the courthouse, head held high, shadows under his eyes, his smile vicious, but victorious, after the court had sentenced both Ty and Obi to prison. The first for fifteen years and the other for life. Most pictures didn’t show Pepper and Rhodey right behind him. Staying close. Protecting his back. Being there for him even if he was a mess. Even if they would have been so much better off if they had just forgotten about him.</p><p>But they hadn’t. They had been fighting for him when he couldn’t anymore. Giving him reasons to live. To get through all of this. To keep fighting every day.</p><p>No one but them and Happy knew, that he broke down as soon as they had been in the car. After showing the world a mask. No one knew it had taken him two years of intensive therapy to even face the world on a day-to-day basis. No one knew, he was donating, or actively working for two thirds of all organisations who helped mistreated and abused subs in the US. Aside from the Maria Stark Foundation. Everyone knew about that one.</p><p>Today was the second anniversary of the conviction of both of his tormentors and Tony knew, even before the day started, today was going to be hell.</p><p>But he was okay with being a sub. Was okay with the fact that he was fucked over by his biology, taking meds every day to keep it at bay, because, even after all the therapy and time, there was just no way he would be able to trust anyone, let alone a dominant, who wasn’t Rhodey or Pepper. And while they could help take the edge off, and where willing to do anything for Tony, no. They were family. (Also, he couldn’t mix their voices with <em>those</em> memories. Never.)</p><p>Both of whom had stayed with Tony through thick and thin, had protected him when he needed it, let him fight his fights when he wanted it and never, not once, looked down on him for being a sub. They did look down on him plenty of times for being an idiot, not eating enough, being forgetful or hurting himself in his workshop, but never for being what he was. Never for being weak. Never for being different.</p><p>Tony knew, he wouldn’t have survived any of his life without them. And before them, Jarvis.</p><p>Looking back into the mirror, he looked good. No scars visible. His eyes hidden behind grey sunglasses. His suit sharp. The media smile on his lips.</p><p>Straightening his back even more, Tony exhaled, letting his body loosen some. Today was just another day. Nothing special. It was just another day.</p><p>Actually, the first meeting would be a good one. A small organisation had reached out to ask for a donation. He had already looked them up and financed their start, but they didn’t know that. They were called the Avengers and did incredible work, not only providing a safe haven for subs who were running from abusive relationships, they helped them get back into society, helped them get jobs and to sue their abusers.</p><p>It was run by a red-headed sub and a blond dom. The sub, who, alone by the look in her eyes, Tony knew, had fought for where she was with everything she had. The dom had been a soldier in his first life. No connection to anything even hinting at a violence past, and Tony had looked. He always did. (And because he did, he had been able to close five that had doms working for them that had used the help organisations for everything from teaching them they had been in the wrong for saying no when they had been hurt against their will to selling them back to their abusive dominants.)</p><p>The whole organisation was clean as far as Tony was able to find out. Which meant it was about 87% sure it was actually the real deal. The reviews of supposedly subs who had been helped by them were full of praise.</p><p>So that was at least a meeting he was kind of looking forward to. Probably the reason Pepper had set it up for today. To force him out of his apartment. To make sure he didn’t drink himself under the table. He didn’t touch alcohol most of the time. Only on special occasions. Just like today.</p><p>“Sir?”</p><p>“I know, Jay, I’m leaving in a minute.”</p><p>“I just wanted to inform you that your 9 o’clock is already in conference room eight.”</p><p>Looking down on his insanely expensive wristwatch, he had still more than forty minutes left.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“There are people out there that like to be on point, Sir.”</p><p>“Being here forty minutes before the time is not being on point.”</p><p>“Maybe they just wanted to make sure they wouldn’t be too late.”</p><p>“They’re coming from Brooklyn, not Europe.”</p><p>“In that case, I might suggest asking them yourself.”</p><p>Glaring up at the camera in the corner of his bedroom, Tony squared his shoulder again. He could do this. He wanted to do this.</p><p>Today was just another day at the office. He was healed. The scars were barely even bothering him anymore. He had worked through what had been done to him. He was fine.</p><p>“Send for breakfast, Jay.”</p><p>“As you wish, Sir.”</p><p>Walking over to his open kitchen, he filled his travel mug with coffee and left his apartment. His safe space. Well actually, the thing he used as such when he couldn’t be in his workshop. And apparently, he wasn’t allowed to live down there, according to Jarvis, Pepper and Rhodey who had formed an alliance against him, the traitors.</p><p>“Tell Pepper, I’m already in the meeting and she can come join us if she wants a croissant.”</p><p>“Should I also tell her that this isn’t a clever hidden message that you are being kidnapped?”</p><p>“You know, if this wouldn’t be something she would probably worry about, I would make you answer our complaints hotline for all eternity.”</p><p>“My servers are quivering, Sir.”</p><p>Pushing open the door to conference room eight, he growled “The disrespect!”</p><p>Looking in the shocked eyes of one massive dominant and a slightly grumbled sub, he realized, that might have not been the cleverest thing he had ever done. Not that he really gave a fuck. Or did clever things where humans where concerned.</p><p>Pointing with one finger to his ear, which actually held an earpiece he always wore when he left the workshop or his floor, he walked forward, sitting down at the head of the table and gesturing for them to sit down.</p><p>“Just tell her and get someone to deliver the breakfast here.”</p><p>“Of course, Sir.”</p><p>Pressing a finger to his ear as if ending a call, Tony plastered a relaxed smile on his lips, looking first at the woman and then to the man. “Miss Romanov, Mr. Rogers. Welcome to Stark Industries. Not that you’re here because of SI, even if SI, too, is donating to your cause. So, how much money do you need from me?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading.</p><p>Please leave kudos, comments and if you want to constructive criticism. </p><p>If you have ideas, prompts or wishes, just let me know. I don't promise anything, but am always open to suggestions!</p><p>As always: stay safe, sane and optimistic, my lovely readers!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Steve: Mr. Stark</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Steve and Nat have a meeting with Mr. Stark - and it doesn't go as planned</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey everyone, </p><p>still experimenting, so let's hear what you think about this :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I told you so!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you we would be way too early!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, Nat, I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But did you listen to me? Noooooooo. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The traffic will be terrible, Nat. I know New York, Nat. We will be late as it is, Nat.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve sighed. He would hear about this for the next, oh, probably five years. If he was lucky. He wouldn’t be lucky. He loved his makeshift family, he really and truly did. But all of them were awful. And vengeful. And, worst of all, highly trained specialists that lived to show up their old Captain. Just because they could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you sigh at me, Steve!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Nat.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You better be! What are we going to do for an hour!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve had some ideas. Hyperventilating sounded good right about now. What the frick had they thought asking for a meeting with Tony Stark? That he would offer them a check just because he had been an abused sub himself? What were they even going to say? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey you remember being tortured by someone who should have loved and cared for you and then being dragged through the mud by the press for the whole world to see? Good. Because we need money and we’re asking you because we know how much you suffered. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>They should be praying Mr. Stark wouldn’t call security. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you even listening to me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve looked up in the furious green eyes of Nat. He wasn’t. Which meant he was as good as dead. It didn’t matter that he was a big and strong Dom. Or that he had served in the army. Or that he had been Captain of a special force unit. He was dead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We could just go into the Tower already.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“An hour before we have the meeting?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If they were lucky they would be sent away and told it just had been a prank. Why would Pepper Potts, the woman whispered to be ruling SI answer their request? Wouldn’t she have better things to do? Like her job? Being a PA to the CEO of one of the most important tech companies around the world?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Granted. She probably was an ally, like Steve himself. Her role in the lawsuit against Mr. Stark’s abusers was also well documented. She had stood up in court, together with Colonel James Rhodes and made sure Mr. Stark’s side of the story was heard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Since then, she and Mr. Stark had done more for subs than most people even knew. Everyone knew about the Maria Stark foundation, but only few knew that that was only the tip of the iceberg of everything Stark Industries and Tony Stark did. Heck, Steve only knew because Nat was the best at getting information. And they might have used a contact they still had in the military. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Also they knew that Stark Industries had employed two of their clients. Even though their resumes had had holes in them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or we could go drink some coffee.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glaring at him with a heat that could have burned him on the spot, she stepped right into his personal space. “You wanted to be here! I wanted to go alone, so grow a pair or leave!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wouldn’t. As a Dom in a safe haven for subs there were a lot of things he couldn’t do. One thing he could do, aside from paperwork, was help Nat raise more money. (He also could try to counteract Nat’s… intensity. Because when she was nervous, she hid it behind calm masks, but her eyes always betrayed her.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turning on her heels, she stormed towards Stark Tower. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Great. This was going to go so badly. She would never admit it, but she was as concerned as Steve. Probably not about the fact that they were trying to use the pain of someone they were supposed to help and protect against them. It was disgusting and shouldn’t be something they would do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But they would do it. Because they needed money or they would have to close </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Avengers</span>
  </em>
  <span> next month. And they couldn’t. Not because it was their livelihood, they would find other jobs. No, they needed to continue because people needed their help. Right now, there were twenty-seven subs with them. Most of them would need at least some more months before they were able to live on their own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they were only registered to foster twenty subs they should expand. Which they, of course, couldn’t because they didn’t have the money. And what they got from the state to help abused subs who had to fear for their lives was a nothing more than a bad joke. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Following Nat inside the Tower, Steve bit back another sigh. Everything in here was glass and marble, cold and sharp edged. Perfect to push beggars against when they dared to enter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman at the front desk smiled at them, asking politely how she might help them. Steve had no idea about clothes brands but her suit looked expansive. Nat and he were wearing their Sunday bests (as his mother would have said, which didn’t mean all that much, especially since he didn’t go to church any longer). And that meant there were no holes in their jeans and hopefully no stains on anything. God, please, let them at least not look like beggars! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Romanov and Rogers, we have a meeting with Mr. Stark.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The receptionist, whose smile never changed, nodded and tipped something into the computer. “Miss Natasha Romanov and Mr. Steven Rogers, 9 am, correct?” She asked, looking up again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nat threw him a glare over her slim shoulder before agreeing with the woman.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After showing their IDs, getting visitor cards and had to walk through a body scanner that seemed a lot more advanced than anything Steve had ever seen before, the receptionist helped them find conference room eight on the twenty-third floor, told them to feel free to drink some coffee or whatever they preferred and to push the button beside the door if they needed anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Stark will be informed that you’re here.” With that she left the room before Steve could ask her to not inform Mr. Stark forty minutes before their meeting that they were already here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as the door closed, Nat turned to him, glaring again. She didn’t say it, but she wasn’t amused about the fact of how desperate they had to appear by their time of arrival alone. Not that they weren’t desperate, they were, but she didn’t want to look like it, because, as she always said, you can’t win the game when the other player knows how desperate you are. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that Steve (or Nat for that matter) wanted to play a game with Mr. Stark. But because they were to beg for money (from someone who had enough to spare, sure, but already donated millions every year and for much larger organizations than some wanna be small time thing in Brooklyn) it would have been nice to at least not appear to be hopelessly desperate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking around the conference room, Steve had to hold back a sigh. It was bigger than their dining room, where they had cramped several tables in and just enough chairs to give everyone the opportunity to sit down. Clint often joked that you had to go in there in the exact order you wanted to sit down in, because there was no room to turn around. That had been a joke before they took in the last three of their clients. Now it was basically the truth. They were already thinking about eating in shifts, but Steve tried to delay that. It was important to eat together!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me talk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve looked back into Nat’s eyes, they were still burning but now with more nervous energy than annoyance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve nodded. He knew the spiel by heart. He forced himself to relax his shoulders, to appear smaller, not as threatening. Which was a lot harder here than in their own home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nat opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, the door was pushed open forcefully, and for just a second, Steve was sure it was security personnel to drag them out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead it was Tony Stark. Walking in with more grace than Steve had thought possible - and he knew Natasha. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The disrespect!” Mr. Stark exclaimed, waving one hand in front of him, obviously annoyed and Steve wanted to melt into the floor. Or jump out of one of the windows that most likely wouldn’t open. Possibly for that exact reason. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t uncommon for subs who had managed to get into high positions to use a ridiculous amount of posturing (not that there weren’t a lot of switches and Doms who did the same thing). Steve understood, even though he hated it. As a Dom who had been small, slim and sickly before his last growth spurt, he remembered the burning wish to be taken seriously. It didn’t change that it set his teeth on edge. Especially when they used it to bully others. He knew why they did it, had been given the lecture by Nat, Sam and basically everyone else again and again, but it didn’t change how he felt about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony Stark, genius, CEO, survivor and icon, blinked, as if he only now realized where he was, before smiling tightly at them, and gestured to his ear. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He is talking to someone else</span>
  </em>
  <span>, a small part of Steve’s brain informed him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Who cares</span>
  </em>
  <span>, was the response from the rest of him, as he tried not to stare at the stunning man in front of him. The first thought that was more coherent than a feeling was </span>
  <em>
    <span>he looks better in person</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That, of course, could be because the picture of him Steve knew was the one taken after he had just won the court case against his abusers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark’s expression in that photo was one of someone who had been through hell. Someone who had fought with everything he had and gotten out. He had seen similar expressions in his clients, had seen it on Nat and Clint, but something about the determination in Mr. Stark’s eyes had always fascinated Steve. Not that he should be thinking about that right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark let himself fall into the chair at the head of the table, making it look almost like a dance routine - which Steve hadn’t known could be hypnotic. He loved Bucky, very much so, but he was as graceless as they came, when he didn’t fight. And thankfully that didn’t happen that often anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gesturing to them to sit down too, Steve followed the command almost without any of his input, just staring at the other man. He was wearing a black suit that hugged him tight, showing off his lean body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh god, he was being creepy. Forcing himself to swallow, he glanced over to Nat, who had her eyes set on Mr. Stark. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just tell her and get someone to deliver the breakfast here.” He pressed a finger to his ear, ending the call. His smile relaxed, although his shoulders didn’t. If Steve wasn’t as trained in reading body language he wouldn't have picked it up, he was sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Miss Romanov, Mr. Rogers. Welcome to Stark Industries. Not that you’re here because of SI, even if SI, too, is donating to your cause. So, how much money do you need from me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took Steve an almost embarrassingly long time to realize what Mr. Stark had said, because his voice had changed to something a lot warmer and approachable. There was a melody to the way he spoke now, as if it, too, was a dance that he not only knew by heart, but loved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the words finally registered in his mind, he knew even less what to say. And apparently, Nat, didn’t either. For a heartbeat, she was speechless. Not many managed that (and if this meeting wouldn’t literally decide their fate, Steve would have been able to really appreciate it).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last few meetings had been a stage act from both sides, the rich telling them that their cause was admirable. So important, really. All our best wishes. And then they had given little to nothing aside from praise, always with the demand of being mentioned in the papers to make sure everyone knew they had given them some scraps. (Steve hated dancing in front of cameras, especially when it was just to appease some rich wanna-be-philanthropist, who couldn’t care less about what the Avengers did. He also had a temper. Said temper was also the reason why Nat hadn’t wanted him to come along today. In the last meeting they had, with an asshole of a Dom, Steve might add, he might have almost lost his temper when said Dom told him, they wouldn’t need as much money if they would only help those subs who </span>
  <em>
    <span>really needed it</span>
  </em>
  <span>.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In preparation for those monkey-dances, they had prepared plans, like they had planned out every op they had had in the field. They had strategies for almost any situation. Not for this one, though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for speaking with us, Mr. Stark.” Nat finally said after what felt like hours. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, I've been following your organization since you opened.” He took a sip from the travel mug he was holding, before nodding to the beverages on the table. “Coffee?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, thank you.” Nat reached over, Steve following her example. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have been following </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Avengers</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Nat asked, looking up at him through her eyelashes, appearing almost bashful - something she could only pull off with people who didn’t know her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are the only organization to help and protect abused subs working in Brooklyn.” Mr. Stark shrugged, as if it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>normal</span>
  </em>
  <span> for someone living in Manhattan to know what happened in Brooklyn. For someone who was running a foundation that supplied money and help to dozens of organizations, to know about some struggling upstart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And your interest had nothing to do with the three ex-military Doms we’re employing?” Nat asked, a sweet (and dangerous smile) on her lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no. That was the main reason.” Mr. Stark smiled as sweetly back at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Stark, we would never-” He started, but was interrupted by the intense gaze that was only partly hidden by the grey sunglasses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad to hear that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you checked.” Nat said, approval in her voice, even if her words sounded more like an accusation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. With your connections and training a trafficking ring would be ridiculously easy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Stark!” Steve pushed himself off his chair, staring at the other man appalled. How could he even think something like that!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve.” Nat held out her hand, knowing full well where his thoughts were right now. They had worked </span>
  <em>
    <span>against</span>
  </em>
  <span> trafficking rings like that. They had </span>
  <em>
    <span>seen</span>
  </em>
  <span> what-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, Mr. Rogers, the fact that you are here right now means that I haven’t found anything.” He smiled up at him, relaxed. In control. Not in the least impressed with the angry ex-soldier in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You investigated us!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Mr. Stark said, slowly, as if to make sure Steve understood him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you find out?” Nat asked, throwing Steve a warning glance. They weren’t trafficking subs - Steve tried to remember the breathing exercises he had learned to calm himself down, but even the thought! They would never! - but they did foster more subs when they were allowed to. And they might have had some… altercations with Doms who thought they had any right to get their former partners back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sitting back down, he balled his fists under the table, controlling his breathing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking back at Natasha, Mr. Stark’s smile got sharper. “Nothing at all that would give me the impression that anything… </span>
  <em>
    <span>morally wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span> is going on.” He let that sink in. Just long enough for Steve to have to fight against the need to deepen his breathing exercises. He knew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On the contrary, actually. I think the work you’re doing is invaluable. I would even go so far as to say, you could do more, if you had the necessary monetary resources. And that brings me back to my first question. How much do you need?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nat was eying Mr. Stark as if he was laying out traps in front of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the silence thickened, not that Mr. Stark seemed to notice, she tilted her head slightly. “We were thinking 100.000 Dollars.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve glanced over to her. That was double the amount that they had hoped for. What was she-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To expand? I’d say we could start with 10 million.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s too much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On the contrary. If you buy the house you’re working from right now and the house right beside you, or even better, both of them, you would not only have enough space for up to thirty-five subs, you could even make small apartments for subs and their children. You, of course, would have to give the tenants enough time or even help to move, but that shouldn’t be too difficult with the right incentive. You could also provide transition apartments in one of the buildings, if you would like to. Each house is about 3 million plus renovations, I’d say 20 million would be better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Stark-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It would, of course, be a donation that would be handled by you as if it was anonymous and we’ll have a contract that will state that I will have no influence whatsoever what you will do with the money, as long as it is used to expand your organization and that my name is to be held out of everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark turned to Steve, one eyebrow raised, almost challengingly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re doing great work. Your reviews are… exceptional. Laura says she has never felt safe before she ran to the Avengers. Who took her in. Who didn’t let her Dom in, even when he tried again and again to get to her. Who called the police seventeen times while she was there. Who went with her to every hearing. Who went with her to her job interview. Did you know she is up for a promotion next month?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know Laura?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not personally, no.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you keep a close eye on her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On everyone who was, possibly is or could get into a position similar to what she was in. Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What would the contract entail?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nat!” Steve looked over to his business partner. She was eyeing Tony like a lioness would eye a gazelle. With morbid curiosity and deadly intent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Standard, really. A non disclosure agreement, parameters for what you can use the money for, like buying real estate, renovating said real estate and about everything that will help your clients. Also, if you agree to this, I would like to sweeten the deal with some tech from SI. While hacking through your files I saw that you’re using Windows 1998 and, fair warning, if you don’t let me give you better tech I will break in and destroy everything you have before leaving my stuff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That would be a crime, Mr. Stark.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, they would never get me.” He winked at Nat, seemingly unconcerned with the whole situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Mr. Stark, really, but that is too much.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think so.” His intense brown eyes were back on Steve and he was almost thankful for the barrier his sunglasses provided. There was a fire in his eyes that seemed to be almost all consuming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ask your colleague what she would have given if she had had a place like </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Avengers </span>
  </em>
  <span>to turn to when she needed it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natasha stiffened, her eyes going cold and hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ask me what I would have given.” He turned his eyes back to Nat, lowering his sunglasses, for just a moment, still, it was enough for Nat to relax slightly. Putting the sunglasses back in place, he looked back at Steve, something tight in his posture. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s in our eyes. We recognize each other. And what we would do, what we would </span>
  <em>
    <span>give</span>
  </em>
  <span> to make sure no one else has to suffer through what we have.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pushing himself away from the table, he stood up, his shoulders relaxed, but the twitch in his hand was telling. He needed to flee. It was a behaviour Steve had seen in all of their clients. Sometimes he also saw it in Nat and Clint.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pepper will come by in a moment and go with you through the contract, I’ll tell her about the numbers. I ordered breakfast. Let me know how you decide.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve opened his mouth to say something, but Mr. Stark was out the door, before he could even react.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the door clicked shut behind him, he looked over to Natasha, her expression a calm mask. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not looking up at him, she nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Knowing full well him saying anything right now wouldn’t be appreciated, he drank his coffee that had room temperature by now. It still was better than the coffee they normally had. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He is right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking over to Nat, he met her green eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can always read it in our eyes.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>sooo... thoughts?</p><p>Thanks for the kudos! Comments are very much appreciated!</p><p>Stay safe, sane and optimistic, my lovelies!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Tony: Panic Attack</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>well... like the title says, Tony has a panic attack. Also, he is done with stupid idiots who don't want to accept his money.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey everyone, </p><p>I'm writing this when I don't have the brain power to write Hydra's Revenge, and as one of my employees has covid and now all my employees are in quarantine, my brain is basically out of commission. </p><p>So... enjoy :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s in our eyes.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Walking faster, Tony ignored everyone and everything, namely Jarvis, who told him Pepper wanted to speak with him, the phone call from Pepper, presumably to speak with him and himself, because if he had to pick one person that he definitely didn’t want to talk to (if possible ever again) it would be himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s in your eyes.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Storming into his workshop and initiating black out mode, he let himself grab the nearest work table, steadying his shaking body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was pathetic. Weak, pathetic and so incredibly stupid! Which, for a genius of his caliber, really was an achievement. Then again, he had always been an overachiever, sooo… not really all that surprising. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Closing his eyes, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead down onto the cool metal table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had to breathe. It was easy. Even babies could do it. In 1 - 2 - 3. Hold 1 - 2. Out 1 - 2 - 3 - 4. Easy. He could do it. Easy peasy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood, he forced himself to calm. To stop shaking. To fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>breathe</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In 1 - 2 - 3. Hold 1 - 2. Out 1- Shit!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Come on Stark, breathing wasn’t that fucking hard! </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s in your eyes, Anthony.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Grabbing the table harder, and appreciating the way the hard edges bit into his hands, he forced to get </span>
  <em>
    <span>that voice </span>
  </em>
  <span>out of his head. Not today. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not today</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I saw it in your eyes.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>No. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Not today. Breathe, Stark, come on. In 1 - 2 - 3. Hold 1- Fuck!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shit. Shit, fuck, no! NO! He could do it. He could! Ignoring the wet warmth dripping from his hands and running down his chin, he breathed. Because he could do it. He could. He could! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In 1 - 2 - Fuck. No! In 1 - 2 - 3-</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You wanted it. I saw it in your eyes. You </span>
  </em>
  <span>wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>it!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His legs gave out under him and his blood wet hands slipped. Crashing to the floor, he barely avoided to crack his head on Dum-E, his helper bot, who probably had tried to help - as he was programmed. Even though his programming sucked because Tony had been drunk and high while writing it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Initiate protocol </span>
  <em>
    <span>Honeybear To The Rescue</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jay-“ Tony gasped, trying to get enough air into his lungs, to fight the black spots in his vision, but mainly to stop Jarvis from calling Rhodey who had better things to do than making sure Tony was fucking breathing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trying to sit himself up, Tony failed again, his arms shaking too much, his body not cooperating as he felt the ghost of pain wash over him. Felt hands that would hurt him, that would take and rip until nothing was left. And then they would take more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pressing his cheek to the cold floor, Tony - again, he might add - tried to breathe, tried to focus. He was free. He was safe. </span>
  <em>
    <span>They </span>
  </em>
  <span>weren’t here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But they had been. And he hadn’t been safe. And he had been hurt. Again. And Again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Choking on air he couldn’t force down into his lungs, he barely heard Rhodey picking up the call.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tones?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried to answer, tried to say something to calm Rhodey who always got embarrassingly protective. But he couldn’t. There was no air. No room to breathe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>„I took the liberty of informing Miss Potts of the situation.“ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>„...no…“ Tony gasped, desperately. His voice was barely more than a whimper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tones, breathe for me.” Rhodey’s voice had a new ring to it, now. Sure. In control. Demanding. Safe. He would take care of Tony. Even if he shouldn’t. If he shouldn’t have to. If Tony wasn’t such a burden. If he wasn’t a failure. If he wasn’t-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tones, breathe for me. In 1 - 2 - 3. Hold-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony breathed in. He choked on 3, but some air did make it into his lungs. Coughing violently, Tony let himself sag, just lie there. Crumpled on the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good, Tones, thank you. Try again. In 1 - 2 - 3. Hold 1-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony tried, he really did, dragging air into his lung, following Rhodey’s order. Because he wanted to be good for Rhodey. Because Rhodey loved him. Because Rhodey wanted him to breathe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Relax, Tony, I know it’s hard. But you can do it. Calm down. You’re safe. Pepper is on her way. You’re safe. Breathe in, Tones. 1 - 2 - 3.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gasping, Tony tried to relax. To focus on Rhodey’s voice that had always been safety and love and family. Ever since they had met in MIT. He had been the reason Tony had kept on fighting. Every time. And then he had given up. He had let </span>
  <em>
    <span>them</span>
  </em>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were hands on him. Ghosts that ripped and cut and hurt. It hurt. It hurt so bad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, Tones, but it is over. Listen to my voice. You are safe. Listen to my voice, Tones.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony was alone. Always alone and they would come back. Ty would come again. He had left him bleeding on the floor and-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of an opening door ripped a whimper from his throat. He didn't move. Didn’t fight. It would just make it worse. Ty would use it to hurt him worse. To-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Warm hands grabbed him around his shoulder, moving him upwards in a sure grip. Manhandling him so that he could lie back on a small body. The arms engulfed him into warmth. The smell of hyacinths and honey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Breathe for me, Tony.” It was a female voice. Not Ty. A female voice that he knew. She was safe too. Almost like Rhodey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gasping, Tony tried to obey, tried to breath, to be good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m here, Tony. You are not alone. I’m here. Breathe in. You can do it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A warm hand pressed down on his chest. As if his body realized in that moment what was happening to it, he felt the strain on his heart. Felt the way it beat far too fast, how its limited capacity was forced to the maximum. His lungs were straining because of the lack of oxygen. His body was shaking violently. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They</span>
  </em>
  <span> had done this to him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>They </span>
  </em>
  <span>had reduced him to this-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Breathe for me, Tony. Now.” Pepper commanded. “In 1 - 2 - 3.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Focussing on her voice, he tried, letting it go, not able to hold it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good, Tony. That was good. Again. In 1 - 2 - 3. Hold it. 1 - 2. Out 1-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony coughed, rattling both their bodies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m here, Tony. You’re doing so good.” She tightened the grip around him. “In 1 - 2 - 3. Hold 1 - 2. Out 1 - 2 - 3 - 4. That was perfect, Tony. Again. Come on. In 1 - 2 - 3. Hold 1 - 2. Out 1 - 2 - 3 - 4. You’re doing so good.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Following Pepper’s instruction Tony relaxed bit by bit. Losing the frantic panic also meant losing the last of his strength. Allowing himself to melt back against his friend and protector he closed his eyes while she patted his sides, whispering praises and reassurances.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the fact that he could breathe. As if it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>normal </span>
  </em>
  <span>that you needed a coach to tell you how to fucking breathe. As if it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>normal</span>
  </em>
  <span> to make your friend care for you like this. As if he wasn’t a massive fuck up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, the comforting touches, the warmth, the familiarity and the whispers lured him deeper and deeper into his exhaustion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did he fall asleep?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper moved minimally behind him, laying her hand again on his chest. It was another point of comforting contact and Tony snuggled a little closer, barely aware of anything around him anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was a bad one.” The strain in Rhodey’s voice was almost enough for Tony to shake himself awake. He always hurt him. Both of his friends. His family. He always hurt them. Was a burden to them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” There was a slight waiver to Pepper’s exhale. So terrifyingly different to the certainty in her voice she had used to calm Tony. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did he have-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Even Jarvis sounded concerned. “Sir didn’t experience a panic attack this severe for eight months and seven days.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did something happen? Aside from the date?” There was a threat in his Honeybear’s voice that shouldn’t be there. Rhodey wasn’t a bloodthirsty Dom. Not even for someone who could command other high ranking Doms without raising his voice. His presence alone was enough to tell </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> that he was The Shit™. But he wasn’t violent. Never had been. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was wrong to hear that viciousness back in his voice. He hadn’t heard it since Rhodey had given his last statement, glaring at Obadiah. Telling the court-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not that I know off. He did have a meeting with </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Avengers</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“An organization to help abused subs in Brooklyn. They are as clean as someone can be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who was there for the meeting?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The two people in charge, a sub called Natasha Romanov and a Dom called-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did the Dom do?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing as far as I can say, Colonel. I can give you access to the video file, but Sir was calm during the discussion, even when it got heated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It got heated?” Pepper asked, her arms flexing around Tony’s body. There was a frown in her voice. “I just met them. They-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened, Jarvis?” It was a growl, dark and violent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony shifted in Pepper’s grip. He knew, even half asleep, that Rhodey was safe. Always safe. But he shouldn’t be angry. Shouldn’t become something he wasn’t because Tony couldn’t keep it together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shushing him and letting her hand play with his hair just like Tony liked it, he quieted in her grip. Enjoying the warmth. The feeling of safety.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They were discussing-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What did the Dom do?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When Sir indicated he hacked them to make sure they wouldn’t use their military connections to traffic submissives, he stood up, reacting shocked. All my readings indicated he was appalled by the suggestion. He did not in any way threaten Sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhodey’s answer was a guttural growl, stirring Tony again. This was wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, Tony, sleep a little more.” Pepper whispered into his ear, reassuringly, rubbing his sides with her warm hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll keep a closer eye on him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do that. I’m going to take some time off. If I pull the right strings, I should be able to be there in two weeks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Protect our boy, Pep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Always.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony knew, somewhere deep down, that he needed to protest. That he should tell them that this was bullshit. They shouldn’t carry his useless ass. They shouldn't- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soft lips pressed themselves to his cheek. Warm breath tickled the side of his neck and there, again, was the smell of Pepper’s perfume. Her calm voice, whispering reassurances. Calming him down further.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--c--c--c--c--c--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Three days later, Tony was up to his elbows in work - quite literally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sir?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mumbling something around the wrench stuck between his teeth, Tony must have given any kind of agreeing signal as Jarvis started to talk. Because Tony just knew his advanced son would </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> interpret unsure signals or denials to be an agreement just because he thought Tony needed to hear something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The contract for </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Avengers</span>
  </em>
  <span> just came back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Making a grunting sound while leaning closer to the motor he was inspecting (read here: reducing to its particles, but it was shit and whoever had built it should be forced to use Hammer Tech for the rest of their lives), he tried to hide how very interested he instantly got.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After his total and utter break down, Pepper had finalized the contract and sent it to them. They had sent it back the day after, explaining the 25 million Pepper had decided to give them was too much. They would accept 6 million, one new laptop and a gaming console. Which wasn’t even part of the debate. He had told them he would break in if he had to and, by god, he would do it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yesterday he had sent a new offer, making it 30 million dollars, three laptops, some Stakpads and Starkphones and some protective gear for the subs they were housing, two gaming consoles and some more toys for the kids. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They thank you again for your gracious offer. They would like to accept 6 million, one laptop, one Starkpad, one gaming console and-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moving back, Tony let the wrench fall into his hand, glaring up at the camera in the corner of the ceiling. “What the fuck?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can repeat myself if you wish, but the message will not change, Sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why won’t they take the damned money?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As the letter says, they think it is too much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It isn’t!” Tony spat, pointing the wrench threateningly at the camera. “The numbers check out! If they want to expand-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I agree with you, Sir. But it seems Miss Romanov and Mr. Rogers believe it is too much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I fucking explained it to them! I saw their fucking plans. With 25 million they would be-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m well aware, Sir.” If Jarvis could have sighed, Tony just knew he would be sighing right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s it.” Throwing the wrench down on the worktable - and not caring when it bounced and fell to the floor - Tony turned on the spot, rubbing the oil he still had on his hands on his jeans, ignoring the biting sting of his still healing palms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Might I inquire where you’re going?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To the fucking morons.” Tony spat. These past days had sucked from start to finish. It had started with his freak out, proceeded with the board telling him he looked like crap and he should stop drinking - he was sober, thank you very much, assholes - and to top it off he had been jumped by a reporter wanting an exclusive interview to know how he felt now, two years after putting two innocent Doms behind bars because he was weak. And then as the cherry on top, one of his supposed to be genius inventors had built the abomination in his workshop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was done. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Running over to R&amp;D he grabbed some laptops, Starkpads, Starkphones, three gaming consoles, stole some games from the breakroom, threw everything in two bags, ignored all the worried glances and left for the garage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Might I inform Miss Potts-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely not.” Stuffing everything into his trunk, he ignored the chill in the air (it was fucking cold, okay, but Tony had better things to do right now), set down behind his steering wheel and started driving. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Might I suggest-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You might not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t need to look up their address after his intensive research (basically a very high quality stalking to be honest). Tony not only knew where they were located, he also knew where the staff had some parking spaces. He totally ignored the ‘private property’ signs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Getting out of his car, he also ignored the goosebumps on his arms - and that he only wore a dirty band shirt and oil stained jeans. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grabbed the bags from the trunk and marched over to the white door - a common sign as a safe space for subs. The three cuts on the left side of the door frame around knee height was the sign that this was the real deal and not some asshole trying to trick some poor souls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Walking up the five stepps, Tony put his index finger on the doorbell and leaned heavily on it. He wasn’t sure how late it was, but it couldnt be too late, so fuck whoever couldn’t move quickly enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Coming!” A male voice from behind the door yelled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moving back a step, Tony straightened a little bit. Just in case. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door opened, warm light falling on a man, probably in his late twenties, early thirties, sand blond hair, a little taller than Tony, with clever eyes, a happy-go-lucky-smile and the cock-sureness of someone who knew he would win if it came to a fight. No matter that he was a sub. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was also Clint Barton. Ex-military, having run special operations for five years with the rest of </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Avengers</span>
  </em>
  <span> before retiring and opening a safe haven for subs. Tony hadn’t removed all of the red tape and black ink in their files, but enough to know a little bit about all of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that Tony had (also) hacked all their personal files. But if he had, he might know that Clint Barton was allergic to strawberries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay there, buddy?” It had taken Barton about 2 seconds to completely change his appearance. Now, he seemed calm and reassuring, his smile warm and understanding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Peachy. Is Romanov here?” She would be the better option to negotiate with. She seemed the more pragmatic of the two.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She is not here right now, but she’ll be back in about two hours. Do you want to come in?” He took a step back, opening the door just a little more, showing off a warm, empty hallway. It was clearly a routine he knew by heart. Still, his eyes and voice were genuine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.” Stepping into the hallway he saw a movement behind Barton, but before he could see anything more, Barton was in front of him. Calm almost radiating off of him. “It’s just a friend of mine. He is safe even if he is a Dom. If you want to, he can leave right now.” There was no urgency in his voice, just conviction. Truth. The Dom would do it. And Barton would keep himself between Tony and the Dom if Tony wanted it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that he needed it. He didn’t need this. He was fine. He-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then again, he had been ringing up a storm at the door to a safe haven, not wearing more than a dirty shirt and jeans in the end of November, holding onto two bags. He probably looked only marginally better than most subs who ran here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not a problem.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barton kept a close eye on him, before he nodded, closing the door behind him. “Is someone coming after you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking away from the Dom who leaned  against a half open door in a relaxed manner. He would have probably walked through that exact door if Tony had asked for him to leave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was James Barnes, who had lost an arm to a bomb and - shame on him and his whole family - used a Hammer prosthetic. His dark hair was held in a loose man bun. His light blue eyes were warm and calm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think so. Let’s just hope she doesn’t find out about me leaving before I can get back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there a reason for you to go back?” Barton asked, moving closer to Tony, offering to take one of the bags, but not taking them or moving too far into his personal space.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Opening his mouth Tony stopped himself from answering </span>
  <em>
    <span>Of course. She would kill me if I didn’t.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Because a) they didn’t know Pepper and b) this wasn’t a joke he should make around here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t hear the voice in the back of his head that whispered to him that, not three years ago, it wouldn’t have been a joke. Back then, it would have been the bloody truth. Quite literally. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he didn’t run. He didn’t fight. He had broken. He had-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey there.” Barton moved even closer, the warm smile calming. “I’m Clint. You’re safe here with us. The wanna-be-model over there is going to make some coffee, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glancing over to Barnes, he saw him nodding before leaving, almost noiselessly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s your name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stark</span>
  </em>
  <span> he didn’t say. Because he didn’t want to be Stark. He wanted… What? That it was three years ago? That it was four years ago, right after the first scene he had had with Ty? That he wouldn’t have believed him? That he would have left that morning, no matter that he-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I touch you, Tony?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blinking up, Tony saw the worried glint in the green eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s good.” Still, he held out his hand, not moving it closer, but offering the grounding touch that Tony, right now, craved. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What the fuck?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded, despite himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not to be repetitive, but what the fuck? What the fuck was happening?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barton clasped his shoulder hard enough to make sure he felt it, the weight, the warmth, but not hurting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you injured, Tony?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Forcing himself to calm down, he shook the head. “No, I’m fine. I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Five minutes later he sat in a small kitchen, a godawful coffee (judging by the smell of it) in front of him, a well worn leather jacket around his shoulders, Barton right beside him and Barnes making a sandwich. They had insisted when Tony had - stupidly - admitted that he hadn’t eaten yet. A rookie mistake he wouldn’t make a second time. Not that there would be a second time. Because there wouldn’t be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(If anyone - Pepper - would ask, this all was an undercover operation to find out why they refused his money. Nothing else. Just some intel gathering.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clint?” A woman’s voice called out, followed by fast stepps. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barton pressed his shoulder against Tony’s, as if to calm him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you need, Melli?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A young woman, maybe in her early twenties, came into the kitchen, stopping when she saw Tony. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright. Tony this is Melli, she has been here for two-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Three months!” She came closer, the smile on her face uncertain, but warm. “You’re safe here. They are the real deal.” Her smile widened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not knowing what to say - and wasn’t that note worthy - he just nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what’s up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The shower has stopped working again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Murky water?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sighing, Barton nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It has time.” Melli glanced at Tony, before turning on the spot and leaving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can take a look.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barton turned, not moving away from Tony which put his face right in front of Tony’s, The other sub didn’t even seem to notice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another five minutes later Tony, once again, was up to his elbows in work.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next chapter will be from Bucky's POV :D</p><p>Comments give me life!</p><p>Stay safe, sane and by god, try to stay optimistic.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Bucky: Brown Eyes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Bucky's POV of their 'first meeting'</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Real life? Never heard of it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Coming!” Clint yelled, pushing another dagger into his waistband, nodding over to Bucky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waiting to the side so that whoever was leaning on the bell wouldn’t be able to see him until it was too late, Bucky balanced his knife on the tip of his index finger. It had almost been three weeks since some angry Dom had been trying to knock down their door. Of course, they would try it again after seeing Nat and Stevie leave just a few minutes earlier. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if any of them would leave this house without making absolutely sure that everyone was safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ripping the door open, Clint’s demeanor changed almost immediately. His shoulders relaxed and his stance softened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sub. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky moved back, pushing the knife into his waistband, too, before he relaxed his stance and leaned against the doorframe, trying to look as innocent as he could. It normally didn’t work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay there, buddy?” Clint’s voice was warm and calm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Peachy. Is Romanov here?” It was a man’s voice, almost calm and melodic in a way that had Bucky leaning forward before he caught himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She is not here right now, but she’ll be back in about two hours. Do you want to come in?” Clint stepped back, not making any of the signals for Bucky to leave. Relaxing a little more, trying to make himself a little smaller still, he waited for his cue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.” The man stepped inside the hall. His caramel skin on hands, arms and face was smeared with something that could be oil. There was a hardness to his edges. Then he looked over, brown eyes piercing him for a heartbeat before Clint stepped right in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just a friend of mine. He is safe even if he is a Dom. If you want to, he can leave right now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man hesitated for a moment, just long enough for Bucky to almost leave on his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not a problem.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was something else now in his voice. And in his eyes, when he looked at Bucky, while Clint closed the door behind them, securing it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man seemed to be in his late twenties, even if his eyes appeared to be older. Exhausted. It was a look Bucky knew by now. But aside from wariness, there was also a fire in those dark eyes. He might have been beaten down, might have been broken, but he was a fighter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is someone coming after you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sub looked away from him, his movements graceful in a way Bucky hadn’t seen before. It was almost mesmerizing. What shook him out of it was the way the man’s hands twitched, revealing, for just a heartbeat, the barely scraped over cuts in the palm of his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think so. Let’s just hope she doesn’t find out about me leaving before I can get back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t uncommon for subs coming here and feeling like they had to leave again. Especially when children were involved. It would certainly explain his hard edge and the twitchyness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least Steve wasn’t here. All of them had a hard time to let subs go back to their abusers, but, and they all knew that, even if it gutted them, they couldn’t help those who weren’t ready for it. Even if it could mean there wouldn’t be a next time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everytime it happened, Steve found a way to blame himself for it. (Not that the rest of them were that much better.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there a reason for you to go back?” Clint moved a little closer without crowding him, offering to take the heavy bags out of his hands. But the other man didn’t let go of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something flashed through his dark brown eyes. Panic. Agony. Dread.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey there.” Clint stepped a little closer to the other man, his voice warm and soothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This right here was the reason why Clint most often had door duty. He could calm other subs like no one else - and was also equipped to kill any Dom who was stupid enough to try to get into their fortress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Clint. You’re safe here with us. The wanna-be-model over there is going to make some coffee, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sub glanced over to him, Bucky nodded assuringly, before leaving. Coffee meant they would wait for him to say what he needed. Soup meant get Bruce or May. Something warm meant get everyone you can find, call everyone who wasn’t close by and get the cops involved right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Coffee it was. Walking over to the small kitchen that had, once upon a time, been supposed to be a staff kitchen, he started the coffee machine. Guessing by the sub being clearly underweight that he would need to eat something and soon, he took everything out he would need to prepare him a sandwich.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint and the sub came in a minute later. Pushing the man down on the bench in the corner and sitting down beside him, Clint made sure no one would be able to get to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tony</span>
  </em>
  <span>, as he called the other sub. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony hid his hands under the table, fidgeting while he glanced at the coffee as if it could hurt him. Which was a possibility, as it was Natasha’s brew. But those wary glances normally spoke of a history of being drugged. That would make everything much more complicated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clint?” Melli yelled, running down the hall towards them. Watching Tony from out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the other man trying hard not to flinch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint moved closer to Tony, building a barrier between the girl and the man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stopping in the kitchen, Melli blanched, some pink touching her cheeks. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright. Tony this is Melli, she has been here for two-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Three months!” She exclaimed, taking a step closer. “You’re safe here. They are the real deal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony just nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Melli had run here from a Dom her parents had set her up with. She, luckily, had ran before she could have been badly hurt. Not that the bruises she had to show weren’t bad, of course not. But after a while, Bucky had started to be thankful for the small things. Like not having to mob up blood from the floor after dragging a half conscious sub across the threshold. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what’s up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The shower has stopped working again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Murky water?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint sighed, defeatedly. “I’ll see what I can do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing, as experience showed. What they needed was a damn plumber. The only problem, aside from the money, was that it was on one of the floors that was only for subs. No Doms or Switches allowed. And, after talking with at least fifty different plumbers, it seemed there were no sub plumbers out there. Because, according to one asshole plumber, it wasn’t a work a </span>
  <em>
    <span>sub</span>
  </em>
  <span> could do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By now, they would have to get everyone off the floor, including Jonathan, who was still very new and too traumatized to even be in the same room as either Bucky or Steve and let a Dom finish the work. After, they would need to clean it of every smell and pheromones, as at least Jonathan, Becky and Kim weren’t taking blockers as of now - or at least not yet long enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It has time.” Melli, glancing over to Tony, turned on the spot and left. It was a rule with them, that no one was to get close to the new subs until they wanted to be included. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can take a look.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint turned in the same moment, Bucky did, looking at Tony.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And apparently that was that. Now, almost two hours later, Bucky was still sitting in the kitchen, drinking the tar Nat called coffee, keeping an eye on the bags Tony had left behind. And waited. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There had been a few others downstairs, asking about Tony. Making room for him in the less crowded bedroom, but the beautiful men hadn’t come downstairs again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky wasn’t sure how he felt about that. On the one hand it was good that he wanted to help, showing more of that fire Bucky had seen in his brown eyes. On the other, if he really did want to get back to his Dom he shouldn’t stay this long. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Also, Bucky wanted to stay close to him. That wasn’t new, as a Dom who actually knew what it meant to be a decent human being, it was in his nature to care for an afraid or hurt sub. Yes, that was the reason. He wanted to help. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fire in his dark brown eyes. Or the grace with which he moved his body. Or the fact that he was gorgeous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Absolutely not, because (first rule, goddamnit) the subs in here were absolutely untouchable. Also, he had a boyfriend that he loved. Even if it was a stubborn Dom. (But if they wanted a third, not that they were looking, but if they were, it would be Tony. He, of course, meant someone like Tony. Not Tony. Because he was one of their clients now. And they would keep him safe - not traumatize him further.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sighing, he took another sip of the room temperature coffee (the only thing that could make Nat’s coffee even worse) when his phone vibrated. One glance told him Nat and Steve were back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Getting over to the front door, Bucky removed all the security measures, before letting his friend and his lover in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, we got a new one. Doesn’t look too bad but someone did a number on his hands. He asked for you, Nat.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve signed, while Nat turned to glare at the tired looking Dom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You still think we don’t need the money?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never said we don’t need it.” Steve mumbled, but Nat was already on her way upstairs to meet Tony. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know Stevie.” Bucky patted his shoulder. And he did knew. Not only because he had known Steve Rogers for almost all his life, but also because they had talked about it. Constantly. Ever since they had come back from Stark Tower. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve knew they needed the money but taking that much from someone who, in Steve’s words, shouldn't be exploited by them because he knew what Doms could do to subs, was a hill Steve was ready to die on. Aside from it being something Steve Rogers would do just because of the principal of the thing, Bucky couldn’t help agree. Especially after hearing what lengths he apparently had taken to make sure they were safe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even if the money in itself probably wouldn’t make a dent in Stark’s bank account.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve walked into the kitchen first, freezing on the spot. Bucky, already behind him, glanced over his shoulder, to find Tony standing beside the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hair was sticking up every which way, his clothes were damp and there were new streaks of something on his face and arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was beautiful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that he thought that, of course not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The gorgeous sub looked up, for a heartbeat something flashed over his face, too fast to recognize, before he (obviously) forced his stance to relax. He opened his mouth and Bucky already had a hand on Steve’s shoulder to remove him from the situation - and himself too, if possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Stark!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky would have almost missed the expression of resignation on Tony’s face, as he had glanced towards Steve, who sounded at least as shocked as he seemed worried. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Rogers.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice was different. Colder. More detached. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I presume Miss Romanov is back now, too. That’s good, I need to talk to you, but before we do that, where are your pliers?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay that was going nowhere fast. Pushing his boyfriend to the side, Bucky entered the kitchen, slow and predictable, moving over to the cabinet under the sink and getting their other tool box. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turning, he offered it to Tony, not moving any closer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snatching it out of his hands, Tony turned to leave, but Steve, the gaping idiot, was still halfway blocking the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That tone was enough to shake the other Dom out of his stupor. At least a little more, and he moved to the side. Tony took his first chance and bolted out of the kitchen, the tool box securely in his arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fudge!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, now, we don’t need this kind of language here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peeling his eyes from the empty hallway, Steve turned his face back to Bucky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is Tony Stark doing here, Bucky?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he wasn’t mistaken , there was a real dread behind his question. Still, Bucky just could not make use of the obvious set up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right now? Fixing the shower.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fixing the- What!” The vein on Steve’s forehead, the one that was Bucky’s favorite pastime, started to pulsate and he couldn’t help himself, he grinned innocently at Steve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s still not working and he offered to take a look.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why was he even- Wait! You said his hands-“ Steve stopped himself mid sentence, throwing a glance over his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he looked back, most of the panic was gone. This was their Captain. Calm, in control and calculating. Trying to understand a situation in a heartbeat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think he is being abused?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Did he think that? On the one hand Tony was underweight, his hands were cut up, he looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks and the haunted looks could suggest that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the other hand, all of that could be symptoms of someone still dealing with the aftermath, and if even half of what the papers had said two years ago was correct, then it wouldn’t surprise Bucky in the least if Tony was still dealing with the aftermath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.” He leaned back against the counter, massaging his shoulder where what was left of his arm and the metal met. It had started to ache again, nothing unusual. “But he did say he wanted to go back.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That could mean anything.” Steve mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t you meet Miss Potts?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve blinked up at him, before nodding. He had described her as capable, in control and decidedly politely towards Nat. Which was always a good sign. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would she-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nat stepped out of the hallway, a closed off expression on her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did he tell you anything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He came to tell us we were </span>
  <em>
    <span>idiots</span>
  </em>
  <span> and to </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking take his money before he would burn it to ash</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He will come back tomorrow to take a look around. Apparently he isn’t impressed with the state the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fortress</span>
  </em>
  <span> is in.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He also said, this is the last time he will ask politely for us to take his money. Apparently, afterwards all bets are off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does that even mean?” By now, Steve sounded positively panicked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It means Mr. Rogers-” Tony’s voice started from the shadows and all of them jerked around to look at him. It wasn’t usual that anyone was able to sneak up on them. Clint, who stood right beside Tony, grinned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both had signs of their work on them. They were both still damp, even if they obviously had tried to clean themselves up some. And, to Bucky's relief, someone had bandaged Tony’s hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-I won’t let your pride stand in the way of accepting the money you obviously need. You’re doing great work here. I will not let this organization fail just because you can’t accept help.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The </span>
  <em>
    <span>from a sub</span>
  </em>
  <span> was loud and clear, even if he didn’t actually say the words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Stark, I-“ but before Steve could continue, Tony’s phone rang. He flinched. Immediately, the atmosphere changed. Clint stepped closer to Tony again, nudging his shoulder against the other man’s, who pulled a brand new Starkphone out of his jeans pocket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glancing down on the display, he sighed again, hesitating for a heartbeat, before he declined the call.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking up, his eyes were closed off again, no emotion getting through. And that scared Bucky. Granted, he had only seen Tony for the total of about fifteen minutes at most, but those expressive eyes shouldn’t be cold and emotionless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Think about it. Or I will take other actions.” He wanted to turn, but Clint was there, right in his personal space.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, Tony, even if Grandpa Grumpy over there doesn’t want your money that you can stay here, right? You’re as welcome here as any other sub.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t need-“ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t matter. You’re always welcome.” Clint smiled, warm and welcoming and certain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a heartbeat, Bucky was sure Tony would falter, but then he smiled. Politely. Reserved. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll come back when you accept the money.” Stepping around Clint, he moved towards the door, not waiting for them to start to work around their security measures. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See you, Tony.” Clint smiled, not showing the worry in his face that Bucky could clearly read in the set of his shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glancing at the rest of them, before looking back at Clint, he nodded, once. Before turning on his heels and leaving. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They didn’t close the door before seeing him drive by in a black Audi. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>None of them talked until they were back in their tiny kitchen, having closed the door behind them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>„Clint?“ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking up at Steve, there was the coldness Clint seldom showed these days. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>„If he isn’t abused he isn’t dealing with what happened to him.“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t say anything more, but then again, he didn’t need to. Even if it had been a closed court hearings, the press had written daily about Tony’s case for over a year. There was a good chance nothing of value had been in any of the articles, but the pictures of Tony and his two friends taken during the whole thing had said enough. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony had been through hell at least twice. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>...so... now I will work on Hydra's Revenge...</p><p>Let me know what you think. Tell me your ideas or prompts if you want to!</p><p>Oh and thank you for all your comments! They seriously make my life better!</p><p>Stay safe, sane and optimistic, my lovelies!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Tony: Fine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tony's thoughts on what happened</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey everyone, so as this is an experiment, basically, I decided to make it a little more interesting!</p><p>In the end notes I'll give you a link to a discord. Everyone who wants to help create it, to tell theories or ideas, is welcome!</p><p>Enjoy!</p><p>WARNING: Tony has a panic attack in this chapter</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>What had he been thinking? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A good question but, sadly, not specific enough. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What </span>
  <em>
    <span>the fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> had he been thinking? Better, but still not specific enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeing the light changing, he pushed down on the brakes, feeling the seatbelt pressing uncomfortably down on what had once been his chest, pushing the Tony Stark™ version of a pacemaker deeper into his marred body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just to not forget anything, let’s make a list of all the ways Tony fucked up in the last couple of hours, shall we? Tony chuckled humorlessly to himself, staring out to the red light, willing it to change. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Firstly, he drove there. Like a loonatic. Not that he had any misconceptions about himself: he knew he was nuts, but that was the flip side of being a genius - or at least that was what he liked people to believe. But his </span>
  <em>
    <span>nuts</span>
  </em>
  <span> normally consisted of blowing himself up. Of revolutionizing whatever new field he decided to work on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It did not mean getting into one of his cars without telling anyone - he hadn’t done that for years without freaking out. And freaking Pepper and Rhodey out in the process. Fuck, last time he had- nope, not going there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Back to the list of his newest fuck ups. He drove there. Like without any reason at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Secondly, because, of course, he would make it worse - he always did - he had acted like he was an abused sub. Like he needed their help. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why the fuck had he done that? And even more interesting: What the fuck would they think about him, now? (Not that he did care. Tony Stark™ didn’t care about the opinion of others. And he didn’t. Mostly.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t being abused! Hell, his friends did everything for him and he- How could he ever look any of them  in the eyes ever again? Fuck! He shouldn’t even think about that, but - and this was the third thing and maybe the most pathetic one - he liked them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Liked how Clint- Barton. How Barton had looked at him. Like he understood. Like he cared. It was his job, of course, and he wouldn’t, now that he knew who Tony was. And that he didn’t have any reason to be still this fucked up. Hell, he wasn’t! He couldn’t be! Rhodey and Pepper had given everything, were still giving everything to help him, to drag his useless ass out of the pit and-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it had been nice in the moment. The assurance from someone who actually understood. Being close to another sub. Someone who actually was strong. Someone who actually had survived and wasn’t just a shell playing at being whole.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All the subs there had been friendly. None of them had looked at him like he had answers. No one had hissed at him. They had tried to help. It had resulted in both Clint and him being showered in the murky water. But no one had gotten angry. There hadn’t been harsh words or glares or- They had just laughed. Giving him towels. Apologizing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Getting close. Offering hugs he hadn’t been able to accept. Had he wanted to be hugged?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His phone rang again, but he ignored it. Like he ignored Jarvis. It was a terrible thing to do. But he couldn't. Not now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fourth stupid thing he did was helping them. Not because they didn’t deserve it, hell, they deserved so much more than just his money. No, it was stupid because now he needed to go back. Once he started a project he </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to finish it. He wouldn’t be able to forget it. Wouldn’t be able to cope if he didn't finish it. But he shouldn't. They hadn’t invited him. Fuck, he had basically been lying to them! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t go back. Even if the showers still needed work. And the electricity. And the heater. Basically everything he had seen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Also, his hands already tingled, needing to go back and keep working.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(That could also be, because Clint had cleaned his cuts, smiling at him. Not asking questions. Not looking accusatory or sad. Just putting some ointment on them and wrapping them in bandages. Not that it had been necessary.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fucking hell. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fifth, he had declared he would come back just to contradict himself, telling them he would only come back if they accepted the money. Which was almost blackmailing them as Clint had told him that they had been trying to get a plumber for weeks by now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that he should be thinking about going back. Not that he couldn’t not think about it, his fuckign brain already planning the best way to fix everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wasn’t one of the conditions of the contract that he wouldn’t annoy them with anything? He was already breaking the contract! No wonder they didn’t want to sign it! They must think that he had ulterior motives! Who wouldn’t? Tony Stark, media whore - and that was what the press told you when you read the nicer articles about him - would of course have an ulterior motive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And last but not least: he had been </span>
  <em>
    <span>threatening </span>
  </em>
  <span>them to take his money, which, okay yeah that was in character for him, which made it so much worse. He knew that they were working outside of the law. They knew what he knew. Hell, he had been in the house! He had seen the living conditions! He could have any kind of devices on him to get information about them! He had had Jarvis with him! He had hacked them!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was that the reason they didn’t want to accept the tech? Did they think he would spy on them through his products? Not that he couldn’t hack any of their systems but-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He only noticed that he was home, when he looked up, seeing he had already parked the car, motor still running.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turning it off, he stepped outside, feeling empty. Feeling hollow. Coldness were creeping into his limbs making it hard to move. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sir?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony didn’t react.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Miss Potts is asking for-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony ignored the voice in his ear, stumbling forward to the elevator, pressing his hands to the wall, keeping himself upright. Trying to. Holding on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The elevator started moving. Tony barely realized it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the doors opened again, he was squating in the corner of it, focussing hard on breathing. In 1 - 2 - 3. Hold 1 - 2. Out 1 - 2 - 3 - 4.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seconds later, warm hands were on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Tony</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let himself be guided to the couch, sitting down. The warm hands clasped his own, fidgeting over the bandages before one reached up to his face, guiding him to look up into Pepper’s worried green eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony what happened? Are you hurt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shaking his head as much as he could in her grip, he let his gaze fall back on his hands. On the bandages wrapping them. As if they had actually cared for Tony.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where were you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony closed his eyes, letting his body slump a little forward, the heavy pressure on his chest lessening a little, even if the position should be hurting him more. At least physically. Not that he could feel it right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony, what-” Pepper cut herself off, when Tony moved from the couch without breaking the contact with her, getting on his knees and lowering his head as much as she would allow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard her inhale. Could guess how her expression would be changing right now. From the worried friend to the calm Dom. Who would take of the fuck-up even though she didn’t need to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hand from his cheek moved to the crown of his head, a calming, warm heaviness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Deep breathes, Tony.” Her voice was calm, demanding and warm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony hated this. Hated being this dependent. Being this weak. Feeling worthless and being unable to do anything just because he had been born as a sub. Just because the world had hated him before he was even born.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least he had Pepper close. She, in a weirdly masochistic streak for a Dom, helped him calm whenever he got too far off the edge. Because she was good. She was perfect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And she deserved so much better than being dragged down by him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Same went for Rhodey, who had done this for years now. Who was the best thing that had ever happened to Tony.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is perfect, Tony. You’re doing so good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t. He was a damn pathetic, useless-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Another deep breath, perfect.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He moved a little, pressing against her hand. She got the hint and pulled him closer, letting him rest against her leg.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re doing so good, Tony.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was lying. He knew she was. It still started to calm him. His chest seemed to expand easier, the longer he kneeled there, being held safe by Pepper. Telling him he was good. He was perfect. Telling him she was there. That she wouldn’t leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he believed her. Like he believed Rhodey. Because they never had. Because they hurt themselves again and again helping Tony. He didn’t deserve them, but he was too weak, too selfish to cut ties with them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to lie down, Tony?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded, still not looking up. He wasn’t down, hadn’t been down far too long - but that was why he took drugs, wasn’t it? At least he had a prescription for these ones.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s perfect, Tony. Let me help you stand up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steadying him when he stumbled, she helped him move to his bedroom, get rid of his jeans and arranged the pillows and blankets around him how he liked it, lying down beside him on the blankets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Close your eyes, Tony. I’ll stay here until you fall asleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then she wouldn’t drive home to her apartment. She would go to her room on this floor. Because she never left him when he was like this. Because she was good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She deserved so much more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sleep, Tony, everything is fine. I’m here. You’re doing so good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her warm hand removed a lock from his forehead, caressing his cheek.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--c--c--c--c--c--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Waking up, he felt better than he had in weeks. Then he remembered what had happened yesterday (thank you, brain, you fucking asshole). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, Sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jarvis, have we fixed the design flaw of the windows?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t aware there was a design flaw with them, Sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So they still don’t open?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Sir, and as long as I am here, they never will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Schedule your removal from the Tower, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will do no such thing, Sir. Would you like me to order breakfast?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where is Pepper?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Getting ready in her guestroom, I’d imagine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure, get everything she likes. Especially those chocolate croissants.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, Sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Forcing himself to stand up, Tony started his day, showering even if his heartbeat increased too far. He had to argue with Jarvis for almost five minutes before his AI, who he had clearly designed as a Dom - he would have to go back in time someday and kick his stupid ass for that one - allowed Tony to wash out the soap from his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he didn’t have a panic attack, he was golden.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dressing himself in black jeans and a red hoodie he had stolen from Rhodey years back, he stepped out, seeing Pepper putting the breakfast on his dining room table, that was only used when Pepper was around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper turned, a smile on her face that probably should be relaxed but was worried. “Morning. How did you sleep?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.” Shuffling closer, Tony cleared his throat. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Any time, Tony, you know that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew that one day she would get sick of this. Hell, he didn’t know why she wasn’t sick of it already.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>During breakfast, they talked about SI, the stock market, a board member they would sooner or later hire an assassin to get rid of - as a joke of course. Probably. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, where were you yesterday?” Pepper asked, casually not looking at him, rather focussing on the chocolate croissant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know you’re a terrible actress, don’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not, or I wouldn’t get away with half of the stuff I’m doing.” She answered, a slightly more honest smile on her lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nonsense, Pep, you get away with it because everyone is </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrified</span>
  </em>
  <span> of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed, her composure relaxing a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you see the new article that was published about you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which one? The one where I was a manipulating bitch using you as my puppet or the one where it was a shame a Dom such as myself let herself be ordered around by a sub?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The one where you were way too good to work as a PA.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean my weekly report about what I’m doing for you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope, the Times actually wrote it, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper’s smile grew warmer. “Don’t worry, I don’t read that bullshit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony smiled back at her. That was why he loved her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, where were you? And, as your PA, do I need to schedule more… meetings?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...no, I don’t think so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper looked away. She had heard the lie. Was it a lie?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know you can tell me anything, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pep, you know more about me then I do.” Tony reached out, offering his hand to her. She took it, gripping it hard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t say anything to that lie either.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You can find the discord about Kintsugi under this link: <a href="https://discord.gg/VcRSX3Tv">https://discord.gg/VcRSX3Tv </a></p><p>I have no idea how it can work, but I thought, who cares, let's try it :D</p><p>To everyone who commented: thank you guys, so so much! It is basically the reason why I can't stop writing!</p><p>Stay safe, sane and optimistic if you can, my lovelies!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Steve: One Condition</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tony goes back to the Avengers. Steve really doesn't know how to handle it.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey everyone, </p><p>my lovely readers, I have no idea what to say here aside from: Thank you. We're almost surpassed 200 kudos. I posted this a week ago. What the hell?</p><p>...just... thank you!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“So, I lied.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve froze, standing out of sight from the half opened door. He recognized the voice immediately. The musical tilt to it. The way it seemed to just demand to be listened to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Tony.” Clint sounded relaxed and pleased. Hell, Steve could hear the relieved smile he would be hiding behind a friendly one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know I shouldn’t-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey Clint, how are you doing</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Oh, good, thanks for asking, Tony. You know some crazy brilliant genius saved me just last night, so I’d love to invite him in if he would just shut up for a second.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe today was the day Steve would finally strangle Clint.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was it the same asshole who threatened you to take his money?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A self-deprecating tone had woven itself into his beautiful melody. And almost killed Steve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t remember that part, but he left enough tech for me to be able to sneak a new Starkpad away before Steve could see me do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve had </span>
  <em>
    <span>known</span>
  </em>
  <span> one had been missing! He would definitely strangle Clint. Today!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark huffed, what could be a self conscious laugh. “So… who is hiding behind the door today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve.” Clint shrugged, unconcerned. “Don’t worry, I hid the Starkpad upstairs with the others, he can’t get there.” There was a new tone in his voice, calming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fudge, he probably did it all on purpose to show Mr. Stark that Steve wouldn’t hurt Clint for disobeying an order. Not that he could order Clint around anyway. Heck, that hadn’t even worked while he had been his Captain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on in.” He stepped back, a wide smile on his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark did, today looking better than yesterday, wearing a leather jacket over another band shirt, his jeans well used but clean. The dark circles under his eyes were just a little lighter. It was still painfully obvious that he didn’t take care of himself. Something that got to Steve. All he wanted to do was go over to him. Hug him. Tell him everything would be fine. And take care of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wouldn’t. Of course, he wouldn’t. Because it would be wrong on </span>
  <em>
    <span>so many levels</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Also, Clint would kill him. And if he didn’t finish the job, Nat would definitely off him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that he would! Of course not. Never! (Still, there was a pull right behind his ribs, almost forcing him to take a step closer. Fuge, that made him sound like an abuser. Abort!)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trying to appear relaxed and harmless, he let a smile slip on his face, that, judging by the disbelieving expression on Clint’s face, did not work. Fudge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark’s eyes, today hidden behind light grey sunglasses, met his. His posture was relaxed, even if there was tension in his shoulders. But he was obviously a lot better in hiding his feelings than Steve. Everyone was, if you believed his backstabbing family. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Rogers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Stark.” He nodded, realizing he had no idea where to put his hands. Where did he normally put them? In his pocket? Didn’t matter as long as he did not cross his arms. That would look disapproving or rejecting. “You forgot your bags yesterday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint snorted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark’s lips twitched in a beautiful arc, even if it was belittling. “You know very well that I did not forget them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I chose to interpret it like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah… we chose to ignore it. If he asks it was only one laptop, two Starkpads and nothing else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark looked over at Clint, his smile softening some. “Gotcha.” Looking back to Steve he morphed his face into a very serious expression. “I forgot my bags here yesterday with exactly one laptop, two Starkpads and nothing else.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve couldn’t help himself, he laughed. It wasn’t that he hadn’t heard his fair share of ridiculous lies. Especially when sitting in court hearings. But Mr. Stark was not only a brilliant liar, because nothing gave him away aside from Steve </span>
  <em>
    <span>knowing </span>
  </em>
  <span>it was a lie, it was the dead serious expression he was able to pull off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See, Steve, nothing to worry your pretty blond head about.” Clint said, smiling at him from behind Tony, before making a barely there movement with his head, nodding in the general direction of the kitchen, telling him to leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve didn't want to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t matter, of course. If Clint thought it was better for Mr. Stark if Steve left he was happy to do so, of course. Absolutely. There were no lingering feelings of disappointment whatsoever. Of course, not. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why is it I’m still working with you?” Steve asked, smiling only mildly annoyed at Clint, making it as sure as possible, that Clint wasn’t in any kind of danger. Even if he might still strangle him later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you would be absolutely fucking lost without me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Language.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint laughed in his face, placing an arm around Mr. Stark’s shoulder without asking, what he normally wouldn’t do. Ever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Tony, the shower is basically crying your name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clint!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The former sharpshooter didn’t even turn around to acknowledge Steve, pushing Tony upstairs, where Steve couldn’t follow. Not that he would have. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What was he thinking? Clint, not him. Not that he shouldn’t very thoroughly reflect on what the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fudge</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was thinking, because… Nope. Right now, this was about Clint. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t use Mr. Stark to repair anything that was broken around here! And he shouldn’t have taken the tech! And why the heck had he touched him that casually? (Not that Mr. Stark had reacted adversely to it. Surprised, maybe, but not… afraid. He didn’t even blink at it. As if they </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> each other. Which they didn’t.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Walking back into the kitchen, he sat down beside Bucky, who, like the traitor that he was, had one of the laptops out, transferring their files onto it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who was it?” He asked, not even looking up to see Steve’s disapproving frown.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Stark.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky’s head snapped up, meeting Steve’s eyes. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Looks better than yesterday. Not by much, but some at least.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And his hands?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve pressed his lips together. They hadn’t been bandaged. Clint said, they didn’t have to worry about an infection, but that the cuts were deep and had barely started to heal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky’s frown deepened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve! Bucky! We need some hands!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both were out of the kitchen and at the foot of the stairs in three seconds flat. Clint’s voice hadn’t been worried but it never was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See?” Clint smiled to Tony, who looked just the slightest bit uncomfortable, prompting Steve and Bucky both to take a step back and relaxing their stances.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you just call us to show off how well you have us trained, or do you need anything, Clint?” Bucky drawled, rolling his eyes in a seemingly annoyed way, without being able to hide the fondness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Both.” Clint said, getting the last few steps down and pushing them aside. “We need your muscles.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Use your own muscles!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t wanna carry the shit, alright?” Opening the door, he dangled Mr. Stark’s car keys from his index finger, before throwing them to Steve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catching it by reflex alone, he glanced up to the smaller man still standing on the stairs. Like most new arrivals did, having learned that no one aside from subs were allowed on them. They often needed a few days or weeks to be able to get down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark didn’t look like it, his posture relaxed, no apparent sign of fear or unease. And he also looked exactly like it, lingering on the steps, keeping his eyes on Bucky and Steve and hiding his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark had said it himself. You could always see it in their eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure I want to ask, but what are we getting?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just some tools and stuff, come on, Rogers, get a move on, we’re not getting any younger here.” There was a bite to these words that got both Bucky and him moving. Clint had stopped joking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catching himself at the door, Steve turned around, meeting Mr. Stark’s eyes. “We will pay you back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For just a heartbeat Steve thought he had done something wrong, seeing a dark slither flash through his eyes, but he couldn’t be sure behind the glasses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure you will.” The other man agreed. Far too easily. Still, he had gotten the answer he wanted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took them almost half an hour to get everything out of the van Mr. Stark had driven to them and handing them up the starits where most of their clients had built a chain, handing the stuff from person to person to get everything upstairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve wasn’t even sure what half of it was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark did though. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could hear him direct materials and </span>
  <em>
    <span>minions,</span>
  </em>
  <span> as he called their clients, around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are we creepily listening to?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve had heard footsteps but had been too distracted to realize it was Sam, thinking it would be Bucky, who had left him standing here some time ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bucky, what is Steve creepily listening to?” Sam asked, loud enough to startle Steve and, worse yet, while he was still in the hallway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam!” He turned, walking fast to catch up with his friend. Maybe today would be the day where he would strangle all of them?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony either demolating the upper floors or renovating them.” Bucky answered, focussed again on the new laptop that he definitely shouldn’t use.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep, you know how good Steve is in getting us donations?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not at all?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bucky!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But this time he did even better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“James, don’t!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, he called you James. You’re sleeping on the couch, Buck.” Having grabbed a mug and filled it with the brew that Nat forced on them, he sat down in front of Bucky, whistling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice laptop.” Looking up and meeting Steve’s eyes he raised his eyebrow. “Did you steal that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sighing, Steve put his face in his hand. It might have been easier if he had stolen it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It certainly felt like he had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leaning forward, Sam smiled evilly at the one person Steve should </span>
  <em>
    <span>theoretically</span>
  </em>
  <span> be able to trust the most.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do tell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He got in a fight with Tony Stark, who came here to drop this by.” He made a lazy hand gesture, pointing at the laptop, the Starkphone and the two empty bags.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait. Tony Stark?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>The </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tony Stark.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he the Tony that-” Sam gestured to the ceiling. As if on cue, something crashed above them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve sighed again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was really unprofessional for a counselor to laugh that long, hard and loud. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wiping away tears, Sam smiled up at him, more relaxed than Steve had seen him for a long time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me guess, you think you’re taking advantage of him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shouldn’t he be the one deciding that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All their eyes flew to the open door. Thank God, the almighty, it was just Natasha. Something Steve normally didn’t think. And for good reason.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Were you upstairs already?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nat nodded. She had been out for a check up with one of their clients, but the white dust in her red hair did hint to the fact that she had been upstairs. Something none of them could do as Sam was a Switch and therefore banned, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure what was happening, but he had all of them working together.” She glanced at Sam, who was famous for his trust exercises. “He got even Jonathan in on it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? How?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone needed to stay back and make sure they were breaking the tiles in a straight line. He took the job very seriously.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are they breaking the tiles?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t ask.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glaring at Natasha, the voice of reason in all other situations, Steve opened his mouth, but closed it again when she raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hadn’t wanted to disturb them. Because they had all been working together. Judging by the fact that Mr. Stark had been able to repair the shower yesterday, Steve should give him the benefit of the doubt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wait, no. That was not the issue! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is he doing here, Nat?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She held his gaze a minute longer, before walking around him, filling her mug with what she called coffee and sat herself cross-legged on the table just beside Bucky and his new love, if the way he kept his eyes glued to the screen was anything to go by.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Repairing shit we couldn’t find anyone else qualified to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should ask him that, shouldn’t you?” She was probably enjoying the whole thing way more than she should. Especially since her voice and still raised eyebrow indicated that he should do literally anything but that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he didn’t really need to ask, did he? Survivors' guilt was something that did not only plague soldiers. They saw it almost daily in their clients. Hell, they could see it in themselves too. The nagging questions why they had been saved. Why they had survived when others had been stronger. When others had been better than themselves. When others had as many or more reasons to fight. To survive and get out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wouldn’t be a far reach to believe Mr. Stark could think something like that. Especially since because of the media circus surrounding his case, there had been new studies and such to prove how bad it still could be for subs, dragging all those awful fates into the limelight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which, unemotionally viewed, helped those exact people because it raised awareness. And it had, hitting hard just after they had opened the Fortress, given the Avengers donations and support. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fudge, they had been sponging off of his misery since the very beginning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you do, I want to be there.” Sam leaned back in his chair. “Of course, you could just accept that he might just want to help.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“25 million dollars.” Steve growled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He ran the numbers and estimated we needed 25 million dollars to buy houses, renovate them and-“ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wasn’t it 30 million in the last contract?” Bucky asked, ignoring the way Nat glared at him for interrupting her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He brought the tech, came here to repair whatever it is he’s repairing-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not everything!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve, I’m telling you, with the stuff he brought, he will repair </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, so he brought the tech, the materials to repair whatever it is he is repairing and wants to give the Avengers 25 million dollars?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“30.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fudge!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There he was, covered in white dust, a cocksure smile on his lips. He must have lost his sunglasses sometime as now, his beautiful brown eyes wandered over all of them without the barrier. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His shoulders were tense, as if he expected a fight. But his eyes- his eyes were calm, sure. And hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Stark.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Rogers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you need, Tony?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve looked over to Bucky, who smiled enchantedly at Mr. Stark. Not that he - hopefully - would see it, but Steve did. And Nat. Fudge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Also, for Mr. Stark he looked up from the laptop, of course. (Not that Steve didn’t understand him. Great. Nat would kill them both.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A ladder.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.” Standing up, Bucky let Tony step to the side before walking out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you leave Clint in charge?” Nat asked, her expression relaxed in a way it only was around new clients. She leaned forward resting her arms on her knees, trying to look harmless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glancing back at Mr. Stark, Steve didn’t see any reason for it, still he followed her lead, making himself a little smaller and letting himself smile at the other man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, no.” A smile, small, but real, lit his eyes up. “I might be stupid, but I’m not </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> stupid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Biting down on a response that felt far too vicious, Steve hoped someone else would say something, because- why? He knew this behavior. Heck, it was basically textbook. And for an abusive Dom trying to break a genius it would probably be one of the first things to do, breaking his self-worth by making him believe he was stupid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good to know.” Sam said, casually. “I’m Sam, by the way. It’s nice to meet you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark smiled back at him, in a slightly wary way. “Tony.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, for the non-genius people in the room, what are you repairing?” Sam asked, before taking another sip of coffee. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We started with the plumbing but when we’re finished we get into the electric.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that necessary?” Steve asked, wishing he could kick himself when Mr. Stark’s eyes grew colder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, it is. Right now, it’s not a hazard but it definitely has the potential to become one. Especially with how much power you need with the… number of clients you have.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The air around the room changed. Not drastically. Just enough to make sure everyone understood the implications. And the quite literal threat in those words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark had absolutely no reason to not tell on them. Heck, Steve could argue he should be reporting them. There were valid reasons behind setting rules for how many subs an organization was allowed to take in in relations to how many staff members and rooms they had. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Avengers</span>
  </em>
  <span> had not enough rooms to house almost half of their clients. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should we be worried about that, Mr. Stark?” Nat asked, her voice emotionless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you should be. Especially since your next verification will be in january, if I’m not mistaken.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve pressed his lips together, trying to hold back a vicious growl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you know that?” Nat tilted her head slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those check ups weren’t announced for a reason.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark smiled, a dangerous touch to it. “I’ve hacked the CIA, FBI and the UN for shits and giggles when I was twelve.” He didn’t say more, but then he didn’t need to. Hacking into some small department that didn’t even have enough budget to function properly was probably something he could do with a calculator.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now that we are on even footing with knowing crimes we all have committed, what are we doing with the information?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nat!” Bucky growled, dangerously, having heard only the last sentence, their ladder clutched into his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark flinched, even though he tried to hide it. Straightening his spine again, he looked back into Natasha’s green eyes, hiding anything and everything other than his determination. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s very fairly simple, Miss Romanov. You take the donation and buy this house and the two neighboring ones. Half of the apartments are empty already. The contracts are already finalized. You only need to go there and sign.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And if we don’t want to do that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not that stupid.” His smiley changed into something that would be able to draw blood. “I don’t give a single fuck why you’re hesitating like this. Whether it is pride or fear because you think I will pull anything as soon as you take the money, but let me make this crystal clear: the second you sign, you’ll be able to have me arrested just for coming here if you don’t want me to. I can also give you the names of at least four judges and lawyers who would love nothing more than convict me for-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony…” Bucky sounded as horrified as Steve felt. “We would never do that. Never. To anyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t matter. You could. So take the fucking money, sign the fucking papers and make sure you’re not going to get fucking closed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to do this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The brown eyes cut right into Steve’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh thank you </span>
  <em>
    <span>so much</span>
  </em>
  <span>, for telling me I don’t have to. I know that. But I want to. It’s the right thing to do. And honestly? 30 million is nothing to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it would be everything to us.” Clint, who had probably come downstairs to make sure Tony was fine, stepped around Bucky, meeting Tony’s eyes without flinching. “Nothing comes from nothing right?” He said it like it was something Tony had told him earlier. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t come from nothing. I’ve vetted you. I’ve been here.” He looked back at Steve, raising his chin a little. “I’ve told you before. You’re doing good work. I want to help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something clenched around Steve’s chest. Seeing these eyes set on him, conviction and fire in them. His shoulders set, his fists clenched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right now, he was just another asshole trying to tell the genius what to do. Fudge. What was happening to him? That was so far from what he wanted to do here he really had no idea how this happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re helping, Tony.” Clint stepped closer to the other man, offering his hand, without touching him. “You fixed the showers. You know how long we had that problem?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Judging from the pipes, since you moved in.” Mr. Stark didn’t look away from Steve, didn’t acknowledge when Clint stepped even closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can’t just accept it, Mr. Stark, it’s too much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll prefer to have seventeen of your clients live on the streets?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve almost choked on the cruelty in his voice. The melody below it was made of blood and pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll sign under one condition.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nat!” Bucky growled, threateningly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint pressed his shoulder to Tony’s, keeping close as the other man flinched again at Bucky’s tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What condition?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Stark you don’t-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You stop being an asshole and come visit regularly or Clint will never shut up about it.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Another thank you to everyone who joined the discord. Let's hear what you think of this!</p><p>Also thanks to my friend De_Marvel_Bunny for beta reading this! And to Spagbol99 for being an awesome friend and listening to me complaining. </p><p>Info: "Jap" is the German version of "Yep", so a flippant way to say "Yes". Although I changed his backstory, so now it's Yep!</p><p>And to everyone reading and especially you who comment!</p><p>Thank you so much!</p><p>Please stay safe, sane and optimistic if at all possible!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Tony: Just a Scratch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tony reacts to Nat's... let's call it an idea, shall we? We also take a short look around upstairs!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey everyone, </p><p>I have no idea what to say. Like none. We're at 265 kudos after 11 days. Are you kidding me? I am speechless! Something rather rare for an author, let me tell you... sooo... THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!</p><p>This chapter was inspired by the lovely people who joined me in the discord. People, you are amazing, thank you so much for your help!</p><p>This chapter was beta read by my friend De_Marvel_Bunny, thanks, love!</p><p>And now: please enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tony, in true Tony Stark™ fashion had managed to not only fuck up completely the already highly critical situation he himself had produced, but do it in a spectacular way not even he, with his immense intellect, could have forseen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He truly was a genius. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking into the green eyes of Natasha Romanov he felt like this was a decision he would regret either way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t decline because they needed the money. Because he had come here again and again and basically forced himself in here. He needed to finish the repair work he had started and if he wanted to make sure the subs upstairs had even a slither of a chance, they fucking needed the Avengers and the Fortress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t agree because his presence alone was a risk to their organization as it was. He was lucky the press was hunting some other bastard right now but sooner or later, they would remember him and then they would destroy all of this. They always did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Also, he wasn’t someone that should be around people who actually needed help. He was as useless when it came to people and all living things as he was brilliant when it came to metal and code. The last thing those subs needed was him making everything worse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So… rock meet hard place. Have a good time, you two, you’re going to be well acquainted for a long time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Stark-” Mr. Rogers started, worry and earnestness in his face and Tony, for a millisecond, wanted to punch him in his perfect teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll get the contract ready, then. It’s a pleasure to do business with you, Miss Romanov."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The pleasure was all mine, Mr. Stark.” The redhead smiled at him, eyes showing some humor there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m sure it was. Next time I want to overtake some business I’ll give you a call.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her smile widened in a way that reminded him dangerously of Pepper. “Please do. I would be </span>
  <em>
    <span>delighted</span>
  </em>
  <span> to help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was sure she would be. And he would be more than happy to watch her destroy whoever sat in front of her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So does that mean I can keep him?” Clint - Barton… oh fucking hell, who was he kidding, he had just signed over his little free time to them, he was Clint - asked, leaning a little heavier against Tony’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony felt his body relax even though it didn’t make any sense. He didn’t know Clint. And sure, he was an amusing asshole and Tony could appreciate that, especially from another sub, but it still didn’t make any sense that he didn’t flinch away. That he even seeked those contacts out. Which he didn’t do. That would be weird. And he didn’t. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clint!” Bucky - Barnes? - growled, but neither Miss Romanov or Clint seemed to care in the slightest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, keep him, but you’re taking care of him.” Miss Romanov said, a sparkle in her eyes that she let him see deliberately. “That means feeding him, taking him out for walks and making sure he doesn’t destroy stuff he is not supposed to destroy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the-” Rogers started, concern and outrage obvious on his expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yay!” Clint squealed, grabbing Tony’s arm and dragging him out of the kitchen, pushing him a little forward when he saw the ladder. They were up the stairs before either of the other Avengers had the time to follow them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that he thought they would. Firstly, none of the Doms seemed stupid enough to cross Miss Romanov (and they certainly knew more about her past then Tony did - and that was enough to know that if anyone would kill him out of the Avengers it would probably be her), and secondly, everything he had learned so far suggested that they actually did honor the rules they had set for the Fortress. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a very strange concept: Doms following rules. Especially concerning subs. But he believed the subs living in the Fortress when they explained to him how life worked here and the first rule was: only subs went upstairs. Doms or Switches both weren’t allowed to even set foot on the stairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What took you so long?” Jamie asked, sitting on the floor of the mostly-intact-bathroom, leaning against Jonathan. Both looked up with big eyes, as if they hadn’t annoyed Tony since he started working in their bathroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Crochet.” Tony answered flippantly, grabbing the ladder out of Clint’s hands and placing it against the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You rich people are fucking weird.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have no idea, kid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re like three years older than me.” Jamie huffed, laying down on his back, resting his head in Jonathan’s lap - who was obviously as overwhelmed with the situation as Tony would have been. But he was also a lot braver than Tony, as he reached out and gingerly patted Jamie’s dark brown locks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So practically a baby then?” Tony asked, before grabbing the hammer and starting to destroy the tiles (and the wall, of course) hiding the pipes behind that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ignoring the chatter, he leaned closer after getting rid of everything obstructing his view. Jarvis had been right, the murk in the water was mostly rust because whoever built this house had been a cheap asshole. That was actually a bigger problem than he had feared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mumbling curses under his breath, Tony leaned closer to, very carefully, remove some of the rust and feel the material below. If the rust was already on the outside of the pipe, he really didn’t want to know how close they were before the water would just leak through. Of course, that was the moment, he slipped. Probably on nothing. He was clumsy like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony!” Clint yelled, while Tony tried to find his footing, rocking forward and smacking with his face into the wall. That wouldn’t have been that bad - it really wasn’t - but the shard that sliced right through his cheek was rather unhelpful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Strong arms wrapped around his knees, steadying him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moving back carefully, he could feel the jagged tile cut a little deeper. Nothing to worry about if he could avoid to be seen by any living being and Jarvis until it was healed. Thank fuck he still had that ointment back home that really did work on reducing scars. Not that it had helped that much on his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s bleeding.” Jonathan’s voice was quiet enough Tony hoped Clint wouldn’t have heard him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony, turn around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t an order like a Dom would have been able to say an order, but still, there was no room to disobey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sighing again, Tony stepped down and turned . “It’s not bad, I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just cut open your face. Nothing to worry about.” Clint finished in a pleasant tone. “Wait here. J’s keep an eye on him. I'll get the first aid kit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t-” Tony tried, but Clint didn’t even let him finish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t hear you! Too busy getting the bandages.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s easier to just accept it.” Jamie looked up at Tony, grimacing when he saw the cut up close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because Tony had actually listened. Like. Without making a fuss. Something was definitely wrong with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” He asked, mostly to say anything and hide his confusion - and if he was honest, which he wasn’t all that often, his spiking worry. Something was definitely wrong with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Jamie pushed himself upright, crossing his legs and leaning himself against the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a rule.” Jonathan whispered, looking up at Tony and meeting his eyes for the first time. “If we’re hurt we say it. And then someone helps.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a heartbeat Tony wanted to tell him that this was nothing and that they shouldn’t bother. He had worse, so much worse that this </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> was nothing. But Jonathan should bother. He should be taken care of. He should learn that he shouldn’t be hurting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it is a rule.” Tony shrugged, as nonchalantly as he could. He did it for the kid. Not for himself. He did it for Jonathan. It was okay, because it was for the kid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does it hurt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking back into his light grey eyes, Tony didn’t know what to say. Did it hurt? Could he even judge that anymore? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay to not know.” Jonathan whispered, his eyes set on Tony. “I don’t know sometimes either. Not after… Not after </span>
  <em>
    <span>she</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” He stopped, shuddering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, Jona.” Jamie slung an arm around Jonathan’s shoulder, pulling him in. “You’re safe, remember? The bitch can’t hurt you anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Judging by the shudder running through the smaller body, she had hurt Jonathan plenty already whether or not she would be able to hurt him again. And from experience Tony knew, they could still hurt them even when they were in prison. Hell, the memories was enough to still hurt them plenty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you bled out already?” Clint asked casually, stepping back into the bathroom, nodding towards the toilet seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony sighed again and then, begrudgingly, sat down on it. “It’s just a scratch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the rule Jamie?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If we have an ouchie, no matter how small, we have to tell and it’s getting taken care of.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s right and how does the rule sound if anyone else aside from me asks that question?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If we are hurt we tell someone and they will help us or get someone else to help us.” Jamie answered, rolling his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gold star, Jay.” Clint said, starting to clean Tony’s face with a wet washcloth. The material was rough but, as Tony had thought earlier, this </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> was nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Clint took it away it was red. He folded it in one hand, hiding the bloody side with an efficiency that spoke of plenty of experience. That didn’t sit right with Tony, but for once he was clever enough to keep his mouth shut. He should get a gold star for that!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This will burn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony shrugged, not moving away when the other sub put the ointment on the teeny tiny scratch - although judging by the burn, it might be slightly longer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grabbing the butterfly bandages Clint put two on his cheek. They were actually the most uncomfortable thing, as they stretched his skin. Not that he would say anything about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.” Clint let his hand fall on Tony’s shoulder squeezing it comfortingly. The weird thing: it actually was comforting. He didn’t have the need to move backwards. Worse even, he sought those warm touches. Of someone he barely knew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was official: he had finally lost it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint didn’t move away, letting his hand rest on his shoulder, talking to Jamie and Jonathan. And Tony just sat there, on a toilet seat, trying to make sense of everything. Because - and that wasn’t half as surprising as he wished it was - nothing made sense, right now. Not that he drove back here again and again (aside from his compulsion of course, but normally he could ignore it for at least a couple days. Not this time, though.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that he felt uncomfortable around Clint and even the other subs. That was actually one of the things that made all of this as worrying as it was: he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>comfortable</span>
  </em>
  <span> around them. He had let some of them </span>
  <em>
    <span>touch </span>
  </em>
  <span>him. Hell, Clint was almost constantly touching him and he fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>liked</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. The last time someone aside from Pepper or Rhodey had touched him he had fled to a nearby bathroom and had a freaking breakdown. And here? He just let it happen. No, that was wrong. It happened and he didn’t feel bad. It didn’t feel bad? What the fuck?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking up, he met the other sub’s calm eyes. He had a relaxed, knowing smile on his lips that actually made Tony feel safe. Normally a smile like that would have him seething in a heartbeat that always resulted in him provoking the other person. (He had perfected the art of railing others up, especially entitled Dom-assholes. His record was one smile.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The J’s will distract the responsible grown ups downstairs so that you can slip out. Believe me, you don’t want two panicking Dom’s on your case.” He all said it with a smile and an air of absolute relaxation. Because he wasn’t afraid. Because that didn’t mean they would be angry? Why wouldn’t they be? First he basically broke in, then he destroyed their wall after </span>
  <em>
    <span>threatening </span>
  </em>
  <span>them and then he cut himself. Resulting, apparently in Clint kicking him out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, when I sprained my ankle Steve wanted to carry me around.” Jamie said, rolling his eyes. “It didn’t even hurt that much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very convincing.” Tony stood up, confused and weirdly glad when Clint didn’t move away but kept close, letting their shoulders touch. He surely must be angry with Tony, right? He kicked him out. And Tony hadn’t even been able to help any.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what to do.” Clint smiled an evil smirk to them. Jamie grinned back enthusiastically, which meant trouble for sure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonathan turned to Tony before leaving, hesitating before a small smile touched his lips. “Will you come back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony opened his mouth, stopping himself from giving any of the responses that came to mind, before nodding. “Yeah, there are still some walls I haven’t destroyed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Smiling a little wider, Jonathan let himself be dragged out of the bathroom by Jamie, who yelled a goodbye over his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are they going to do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about it.” The silent laugh in Clint’s eyes was something Tony hadn’t seen in a long time - and couldn’t stop himself from enjoying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will I be still welcome tomorrow?” He asked, the self-deprecating tone already lacing his words. It should be a joke - mostly. Because if he actually wrote that contract and they were actually stupid enough to sign it, he… had a right to come here? No, that was wrong. He had an obligation. At least until they used his money. At least until he finished the repairs and rebuilding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yes, I might be fired by then, but I’d just show up at the Tower.” He winked, before pushing Tony gently out of the apartment and down the corridor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, you’re always welcome.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh fuck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good to know! I have some pranks planned and this time Steve might actually lose it.” He laughed, full of glee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t the reason silent panic grabbed Tony. He had meant the words. He hadn’t invited someone to his place and meant it since… well, he wasn’t even sure that had happened since he invited Pepper for the first time. And that had been different. She had been his employee and his friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who was Clint to him? Could he even be anything? Hell, he had seen him, what? Three times and now he would be okay with him moving into Tony’s apartment? Wait, what? No, no, of course not. No. No? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay there, genius?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony blinked up at the other man, who had stepped closer again. And it made Tony feel safe. It seemed like he actually wasn’t angry with Tony. Which probably meant he was even crazier than Tony had feared, because everyone was always angry with him. Even Rhodey and Pepper got angry sometimes. Especially if he hurt himself. It didn’t make sense! Nothing made sense!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re sure?” It wasn’t asked with a patronizing tone or mistrust, just to make sure? Could that be?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Yes, I’m fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were almost at the foot of the stairs when they heard roaring laughter from the kitchen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sprinting to the door, Tony was surprised to see all the closing mechanisms - that definitely needed an upgrade - open. Clint didn’t seem surprised at all. Not even when behind said door stood Miss Romanov, obviously waiting for them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She raised an eyebrow when he saw Tony’s cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good call.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint grinned at her. “Yeah, I thought so too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What? Tony let his eyes wander from Clint to Miss Romanov and back. Had they talked? Had they decided it would be better for Tony to not see the other Avengers before leaving because he had hurt himself? Sure, Clint had basically said that upstairs but- it couldn’t be because the Doms would be worried, right? Why would they care? Why would any of them care?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked back at Miss Romanov, her expression not really closed off, but not showing much of what she thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the longest time this question had been enough to send Tony either into a panic attack or a fit of rage. But not when they asked. Why was that? Because they knew what it meant to not be okay? Because of that freaking calm that he seemed to feel around them? Fuck, he really had lost it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine, it’s just a scratch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay then.” She handed him his car keys back. “We’ll sign the contract as soon as you bring it to us. Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony looked back into her green eyes. She had learned to hide her feelings, just like him, still, there was that glimmer of deep understanding in them. Probably the reason he trusted them… right? It could also be the reason for all those freaking feelings, right? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Tony.” She stepped closer, holding out her hand. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trying to hide his need to fidget in front of someone who had once been a spy was damn hard work - and he definitely didn’t pull it off. But, as his daddy dearest had often said, only failures tried. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took him far too long to reach out and shake her hand. It was warm and strong, the smooth skin rubbing against the calluses in his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re going to see you tomorrow?” Clint asked, moving closer again - and it still didn’t freak Tony out, which, of course started to really freak him out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whenever you have the time is fine.” Miss Romanov - thankfully - interrupted him before he could start rambling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! You said-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whine more and he won’t come back at all.” She looked at Clint like Pepper often looked at Tony, like he was the little brother she never wanted but now had and loved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not true! Tony likes me, right, Tony?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fucking hell, he did. What the fuck was happening to him? His heart, that was beating faster and faster for a while now, started double time. He needed to go. He needed to go </span>
  <em>
    <span>right now</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not stupid enough to contradict Miss Romanov where she can hear me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apparently that was the right answer as she started smiling. “Nat or Tasha is fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He also wasn’t stupid enough to not accept that. Look at that, he really was a genius!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tasha, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Drive save.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was getting creepier by the second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah… see you.” He fled - with a lot of dignity, of course - the scene. Getting behind the wheel, it was almost a relief to close the door and be alone - not counting Jarvis in his ear, but Jarvis never counted. (He did not acknowledge the twitch of unease. Nor that he felt cold where Clint had been touching him. Because it wasn’t there. Easy as pi.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What the fuck was happening? Sure he knew he was losing it, but-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Might I recommend your breathing exercise, Sir?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I fear I have to disagree with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your heart rate-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I am fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Jarvis.” He bit out, his tone more vicious than he had anticipated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clearly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony didn’t answer. He was fine. There was literally no reason to not be fine, damnit! The cut on his cheek was nothing! One glance into the rearview mirror was enough to make sure of that. He wouldn’t have even bothered to do anything if that would have happened in his workshop, just made sure the blood wouldn’t drip on his laptop or keyboard and that would have been that. He. Was. Fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(He might have used the breathing exercise.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sir?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I took the liberty to change the contract accordingly. Would you like me to send it to Miss Potts?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Miss Potts-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Jarvis, absolutely not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Parking the van in the SI garage where he had apropriated it earlier today (he was the fucking owner of the whole company and if someone would come to annoy </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> about not filling out the right forms he knew who wouldn’t get his next raise).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What would you prefer for dinner?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not hungry.” Stepping out of the elevator, he already looked for his Starkpad, locating it on the grey couch in his living room he barely ever used. He let himself fall down on the cushions and unlocked the screen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jarvis, who informed him in no uncertain terms that his dinner was going to be delivered in about forty-five minutes and he sincerely hoped he was in the mood for italian (aha, sure), displayed the contract already on it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Knowing it forwards and backwards by now, he only read the highlighted parts. The changes were, of course, perfect. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was just one little problem: No one could find out about this. It would be bad enough if people were to find out that he gave such a small organization that kind of money after meeting them once or everyone would try it. And then he wouldn’t be able to ever do that again - which was something he seriously needed to consider, because whatever it was what happened right now, couldn’t happen again. Not that anything was happening! Shit, he didn’t even know himself anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Regardless, it would be that much worse if they knew that he actually had a personal interest in them. Not that he had. It was just because of the repair work. That was everything. Nothing else at all. (He certainly didn’t remember the smiles. The way the other subs had reacted when they recognized him. The way they had taken him in, had offered him a place to stay when he had more room for himself here than all of them shared there. He also didn’t remember the eyes of Jonathan, talking to him when Clint had said he still had a hard time talking at all. Nope. Absolutely not.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jarvis had, of course, done great work, using a wording that was wage enough for him to be able to get out of it the moment the repairs were done - and the Avengers had bought the other houses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hesitating for a heartbeat longer, he put the new addition in an attachment, referencing that in the contract but not linking it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Make it happen Jay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. Print the contract and the attachment once in my private office. The attachment stays with us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...are you sure-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The following silence was full of reproach. Pepper, as the one running his life, needed to know something like this. Rhodey, as his proxy for everything, should know too. Especially since they would most likely worry if it came out. But it wouldn’t. Because this was just a short time thing. They wouldn’t find out and nothing was happening and Tony didn’t even believe himself anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew that they would worry. They always did. Because they loved him. He knew that. But if he told them now, they would worry too and he had already worried them once this week. He didn’t need to make it worse. He wouldn’t!</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Disclaimer: I have no clue whatsoever about anything artisanal so if anyone does, let me know :)</p><p>Next chapter is Bucky as by popular demand through the discord.</p><p>Thank you for all the comments I get, they really do make my days better!</p><p>Teaser: one BRILLIANT person creates the world (biological aspects and coherences) for this fic - and as soon as she is done and I translated it (and hopefully understand all of it) I will post it because seriously it is far too brilliant.</p><p>Other brilliant people in the discord are helping me with the other aspects of world building and to all of you THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! Writing with and for you is the highlight of my day!</p><p>Stay safe, sane and - if possible - optimistic, my lovelies!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Bucky: Careful</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>We see some of the interaction from Bucky's POV - and learn a little more about the lover boys :)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey everyone, </p><p>so we're at 360 kudos and 84 Bookmarks and I really have no words. Just... thank you!</p><p>The last week was horrible, but my lovely biologist and I were working on world building.</p><p>She and the amazing De_Marvel_Bunny beta read this chapter. Thank you so much my lovelies!</p><p>And now, without further ado: please enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Leaving the kitchen to get the ladder for Tony, Bucky realized something: He was fucked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And not in the fun sense, sadly, but that could also happen if he got Steve into bed. But that was not what he had meant - even though the ideas sprouting from the combination were delicious ones. (Not that he was thinking them. Because that would be wrong and he was working at a safe space for subs and it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely not</span>
  </em>
  <span> what he was thinking.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Back to the problem at hand though. Nat would kill him. He was sure she would make it short and painless, they had been family for a few years now after all. Still, that wouldn’t change the fact that she definitely would kill him. And Steve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were very valid arguments for them to not be killed. Or to be even screamed at. They hadn’t done anything aside from being dumbasses. But as they had been great-ass dumbasses (why do anything halfheartedly?), that might still be enough to get them killed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The worst thing? He didn’t know why he had acted the way he had. Sure, Tony was attractive. But not only was he in a happy (if sub-less) relationship with the love of his life, he had never reacted like this before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Especially not with a sub that had clearly had some hangups with Doms. Never. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Steve was even worse than him. Both in being careful and holding himself back if even the slightest indication was given by the sub (or Switch) that they were uncomfortable with them (normally) and fucking up his interactions with Tony.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve never flirted. And what he did wasn’t flirting, obviously, but if Bucky didn’t know it better, he’d say Steve wanted to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something else that had never happened. The both of them hadn’t had a flirty phase. They went basically from best friends to realizing their feelings weren’t all that brotherly, into a relationship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hell, Steve didn’t even realize when people flirted with him (something Clint, Bucky and Sam found </span>
  <em>
    <span>hilarious</span>
  </em>
  <span> whenever it happened). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So what the fuck was going on? Because </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>had to be going on. They couldn’t both have lost it at the same time, right? No that really wasn’t likely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And before that he still needed to find out what the fuck had happened because when he came back into the kitchen Nat basically threatened the beautiful sub who, as far as Bucky knew, just wanted to help. Everything he stated was the truth. Did he maybe say it a little more aggressively when he might have to? Sure, but then again it was the tenth time and they (mostly Steve) still weren’t listening, were they?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeing Tony flinch at his tone when he told Nat to stop, cut straight through him, deeper and more tearing than any other instant a sub had been flinching away from him. Bucky had thought he was immune to it by now. Sure, it always stung, but who could blame an abuse victim for trying to defend themselves?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But seeing Tony flinch was somehow worse. And that had nothing to do with Bucky wanting to force anything of the ‘role model’ crap on the genius the media often liked to shove down their throats. Mostly to discredit him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, it was worse because it hurt in ways it never had before. Like it was fundamentally wrong for Tony to fear Bucky even though he had every right to. After all, Tony didn’t know him. He was just a Dom with a military background to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeing the way he shut down Steve with his vicious return was almost as painful as the way he had flinched away from Bucky just moments earlier. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fact that this barely 90 pounds soaking wet sub looked Steve, a Dom other Doms recognized as superior (as long as they hadn’t seen him being roasted by his family, truth be told) in the eyes and told him he didn’t need his permission and that it was the right thing to do, though Steve normally played that card, was equally devastating (for Steve) and incredibly empowering (for Tony). And the fact that he didn’t immediately side with Steve, his partner for the better part of his life (sixteen years by now if his count wasn’t off) was also something concerning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that he would have turned on the rightfully angry sub, of course, but the fact that he was too distracted by the sub with the fire in his gorgeous whiskey-colored eyes standing his ground to actually acknowledge Steve’s pain was telling. And wrong. Wasn’t it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That Tony thrust the knife even deeper in their chests by letting his voice show how earnestly he wanted to help, hurt probably all of them. Clint stepped in to calm the genius, to tell him how much he helped already. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Stevie, his idiot, put his foot in his mouth again by telling Tony, after all of that, that it was too much and they couldn’t accept it. Bucky really loved Steve. Had since he could think, but there were moments, just like these, where he questioned the other man’s sanity. And his own for loving him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll prefer to have seventeen of your clients live on the streets?” It was delivered cool, without any emphasis. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve almost choked on the accusation and Bucky understood it. It wasn’t so much the statement in itself, even though it was devastating, but the acceptance in the sub’s voice, as if he had </span>
  <em>
    <span>known</span>
  </em>
  <span> they wouldn’t actually fight for their clients. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All Bucky wanted to do in that moment was step between them, shield Steve from his own stupidity and sooth the obviously hurting sub. He wanted to take him in his arms and- he would never do that. Could never take such liberties. Would </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> do that without explicit consent which Tony wouldn’t give him. Right now. And if they fucked up like this any more - never. (Not that he should, of course.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Nat opened the mouth and he was sure she would save them all. Nat was good like that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll sign under one condition.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ding, dong, he’d been wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nat!” He growled threateningly, knowing full well that Nat could stand her ground against him, having fought beside her often enough. Knowing she trusted him with her life and he trusted her with his and Steve’s (whose life, at least in Bucky’s book, was more important than his own, but that was beside the point right now). She didn’t seem to have even heard it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony, though, flinched again and Bucky wanted to scream, because he was trying to protect Tony. Trying to keep him safe, not scare him. At least Clint kept close, keeping him as calm as he could be while in the presence of riled up Doms who inexplicably couldn’t help themselves but fuck up in his presence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You stop being an asshole and come visit regularly or Clint will never shut up about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What the actual fuck? Had all of them lost their fucking minds? How could she make a demand like that? Wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>she</span>
  </em>
  <span> the one always telling them that they could under no circumstances give abused subs an either or situation that made the sub feel trapped or forced? What the hell was going on?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worse still was the fight barely visible behind Tony’s mask. But by the flicker in his eyes it must be a vicious one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky wanted to say something, but he didn’t dare, because the last two times he had opened his mouth he had made it worse. Steve, of course, had no such qualms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Stark-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Tony, probably using Steve’s try to tell him that he didn’t have to do this (most likely), to decide that he would do it. Of course, he would do it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was real appreciation and respect in his voice when he told Nat that he would ask for her help when he overtook another business. Nat sounded the same when she told him with an almost sadistic smile, especially for a sub, that she would be delighted to help.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was that moment he thought it couldn’t get more bizarre or worse. Of course, he was wrong because, apparently, it fucking could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint, the one that seemed to be even more protective of the genius than even Steve and him, all but objectified Tony declaring him his property and wanting to </span>
  <em>
    <span>keep him</span>
  </em>
  <span> was disconcerting to say the least. (It also made something turn in his gut that he wasn’t even going to acknowledge because he had no right whatsoever to want to do that too. No right at all. And he didn’t. Besides, since when did he want that anyway?)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least Steve seemed to be as lost and angry as he was - especially when Nat basically gave Clint permission to keep Tony - as if he didn’t have any agency at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The worst thing? Tony’s silence. His complacency. After standing up to Steve, he just accepted it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Clint grabbed Tony’s arm (without asking, mind you), the genius let himself be dragged out of the kitchen without a fight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What. The. Fuck? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Had he been in a parallel dimension this past few minutes?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned away from the empty hallway when he heard Sam clear his throat. He was still sitting at the table, his expression calm in a way that suggested he was hiding something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nat was still sitting cross-legged on the table, looking like she was at ease with the world and herself, if you ignored the dangerous flashes in her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve was almost gaping, shock and disbelief fighting with the anger already creeping into his expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So. That was Tony Stark?” Even though Sam asked it, there was something more in the Switch's voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fudge, Nat?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Language.” Sam said, probably more out of reflex than anything. No one paid him any mind anyways. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to say anything, Steve? Like maybe why you’re acting like an idiot?” Her voice was pleasant in a way that was a warning to all of them. Not to Steve, though. Or at least not right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nat you basically </span>
  <em>
    <span>forced him</span>
  </em>
  <span>-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Careful.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was just one word and she was still just sitting on the table, her hands empty, but she could have as well been standing over Steve’s body, a loaded gun in her hand with the threat warped around that one word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve, of course, didn’t care.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t just-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Haven’t you listened?” She pushed herself off the table, now leaning against it, casually, still Bucky stepped forward to be ready to get between them. Not because he thought they would actually hurt each other, but because there was no fighting in the house - especially not a Dom fighting a sub. If they wanted to fight it out (which they sometimes did) they would have to take it to the gym.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He </span>
  <em>
    <span>wants</span>
  </em>
  <span> to help. He basically threatened us to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is survivor’s guilt! We can’t just-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No one moved. Still, they stopped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky glanced over to Sam, who was leaning forward, his hands wrapped around his coffee cup. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s all take a deep breath.” His voice had that slight mocking tone in it, the only reason Nat and Steve listened to his counselor-tone. Showing them how stupid they acted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took a moment, before all of them actually did take a deep breath. Bucky followed suit, hoping it would do anything to calm his racing heart and the goddamn confusion. It didn’t work. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great, so now for the people new to this whole thing: what is the problem?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A lesser person would have cowered under the double stare Nat and Steve threw him. Sam, to his credit, didn’t even blink. Then again, he often was the voice of reason when the rest of them were too pigheaded to do it on their own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The problem is that Nat not only accepted the money we decided-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh shut up, Steve, you decided and you’re right, okay, but Tony </span>
  <em>
    <span>wants to help</span>
  </em>
  <span>! Goddamn let him!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve took a step backwards and Bucky couldn’t fault him for it. The harshness in her words was all but drawing blood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nat-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” She held her hand up towards him without looking away from Steve. “I have no clue what got into you both but you got to stop it right the fuck now. Tony obviously needs help, so we’re going to help him </span>
  <em>
    <span>on his terms</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean by that, Nat?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky wasn’t sure whether or not Sam actually wanted to hear it, or maybe knew it already, or whether he just wanted to give her the opportunity to say it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony doesn’t seem to be dealing with the aftermath.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky didn’t roll his eyes, mostly because Nat would </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>it and then hit him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“From what Clint says he hasn’t been around subs, he seems like he doesn’t know what to do with himself and as a billionaire it’s logical for him to try to help others that-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can’t take advantage of-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it gives us access to him so that we can help!” Nat growled dangerously. “He </span>
  <em>
    <span>needs</span>
  </em>
  <span> to heal. And he will not accept help if he thinks it’s something we give him!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not right!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For you!” She hissed viciously at Steve, who had started to ball his fists.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stepping between them was a dangerous move, but Bucky had never been known to be all that clever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking into the sky-blue eyes of his lover, he put his flesh hand on his chest. Steve put one of his other Bucky’s as a reflex, his stance loosening some.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nat is right, Stevie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If Tony really didn’t want any of this, he wouldn’t come back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not our place to decide for him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, not! But-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For fucks sake!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nat growled from right behind Bucky’s shoulder and he really hoped she wouldn’t kill him just to get to Steve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky glanced over to Sam again. The Switch’s forehead was scrunched up as he observed all of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why is that so important to you, Steve?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not right to exploit his pain!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course not, but he </span>
  <em>
    <span>offered</span>
  </em>
  <span> the money, Steve. Just now, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>offered</span>
  </em>
  <span> the money.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because he feels like he has to!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did he tell you that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence that followed was telling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did he tell you that, Steve?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Steve gritted out, his hand flexing on Bucky’s. “But you think that, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do.” Sam agreed easily. “And I’m sure Nat thinks it, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no reaction from Nat but there was basically no way she didn’t think this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because he </span>
  <em>
    <span>wants to</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Steve.” There was an almost frustrated tone in his voice. “What has gotten into you that you react like that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve froze, his hand pressing hard down on Bucky’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not just him.” Nat murmured from behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced over his shoulder, meeting her green eyes. She was right. They both acted differently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What makes him different?” Sam asked, calmly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.” It was almost a pained exhale and Bucky stepped even closer, hugging Steve to his chest. The confusion, pain and almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>fear</span>
  </em>
  <span> in his voice mirroring exactly how Bucky felt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They almost act as if Tony is theirs.” Nat’s voice was softer. Disapproving. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Sam said, calm and collected. “Do you feel like he… should be yours?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky wanted to answer. To tell them that, no, of course not. Firstly, even if they would bring a sub into their relationship they would definitely not say it like that. Secondly, Tony, even if he hadn’t come here as a client, needed help and should get that from them, therefore he was off limits. And thirdly… they hadn’t talked about it yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he couldn’t deny it, because, yes, that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly </span>
  </em>
  <span>how it felt. Like Tony was </span>
  <em>
    <span>theirs</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Like they were waiting for him. He hadn’t talked about it with Steve, but he just </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> Steve felt like it too, if not more so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve didn’t answer either. He just grabbed Bucky a little harder, hiding his face in the crook of Bucky’s neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” There was no judgment in Sam’s voice and still Bucky felt like he was punched in the gut by that single word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are we going to do about this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing.” Steve’s voice was hard. He moved back, out of Bucky’s safe arms, linking their fingers, when he faced first Sam and then Nat. His expression showed the Captain, knowing what was right and doing it, even if it killed him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” He squeezed Bucky’s hand, as if needing the reassurance. As if wanting to reassure him. “We were out of line.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No objection there, but there was a tugging in his midriff that wanted to rebel. That was almost screaming that they had to find Tony. That they had to keep close and protect the sub. To make sure that he was safe. Make sure he was eating enough, that he was sleeping enough. Wanting to see his brown eyes lighten and cloud over when in subspace, and- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They really needed to keep themselves in check.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you keep yourselves under control?” There was less bite to her words than Bucky would have thought, but still it hurt to hear the suspicion in her voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky’s head whipped around and stared at his lover, who looked devastated. His sky blue eyes were clouded and afraid as he met his gaze. As if to plead for forgiveness or for help.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, we can.” Bucky squeezed down on his hand, dragging it up to his lips and kissing it, not looking away from his lover. “Of course, we can, Stevie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve didn’t answer him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can.” Bucky growled. “We will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve blinked, once, before looking away and nodding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll keep an eye on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It probably wasn’t meant as a threat. Nat knew they would never forgive themselves if they would hurt any sub. But it felt like one. As Steve had to hold back a flinch, Bucky couldn’t help himself but glare at Nat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She met him head-on, though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before anything else could happen they heard thundering footsteps, giving them just enough time to put up calm masks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Jamie pushed the door open just seconds later, it probably looked to him as if they just had a casual conversation, even if Bucky and Steve stood closer together than they normally did while working. Their clients, of course, knew they were dating but the most they did around here was kissing the other on the cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, look!” He held out a plate with obviously self made chocolates. “Jonathan and I made them! We wanted you to try some.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Jamie.” Walking over to him, she took one of the offered chocolates, leaving the kitchen without so much as a backwards glance. Probably to look after Tony.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was absolutely no reason for Bucky to feel annoyed because of that. It was good that she would take care of the genius sub. Especially when Steve and he apparently were too out of it to- what? Keep themselves under control?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Focusing on Jamie, the smile on his face didn’t feel as forced. He had been with them for almost six months now, and if he kept improving like this, he would move out in a couple more. Maybe even start working with them or another help organization. He would be good at it with a little training and experience. The way he cared for Jonathan and helped him was rather telling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Try one!” Jamie smiled up at him with a mischievous twinkle in his eye - something that gave Bucky a slight pause. Jamie, although a good person, had a very similar humor to Clint that meant pranks were something he loved to play. Since realizing he wouldn’t be hurt by them, he had started to play them on Thor, Sam, Steve and Bucky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As it was literally proof of him getting better, none of them had the heart to stop him. Also, the pranks were harmless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Surrendering to his fate, Bucky took a chocolate, not eyeing it too closely, because Steve, the lovable idiot, wouldn’t even be suspicious of it- and that had nothing to do with the fact that he was still distraught because of the whole Tony-mess (not that Bucky thought Tony was responsible for any of this. He wasn’t. This was on Steve and him. Whatever </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>was.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve was the next to pick one, some white, innocent looking one. The fool.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jonathan made that one!” Jamie exclaimed gleefully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that was not only the sure sign that it was tempered with, but also that Steve would rather </span>
  <em>
    <span>die</span>
  </em>
  <span> than say anything negative about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catching Sam’s eyes, he saw the humor dancing in his dark eyes. He too, had taken something with dark chocolate, probably hoping that not everything was tampered with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, try them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Biting back a sigh, Bucky put the chocolate in his mouth, being only mildly surprised when after a moment the sweetness of the cacao was harshly interrupted by the sharp sting of chili. He wasn’t really surprised, even if he had hoped for something milder, like pepper pearls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve beside him coughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking over he saw a slight blush on his lover’s cheeks. Steve couldn’t stomach spicy food. Clint sometimes said he could complain about flour being too hot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay, Steve, is it the chocolate?” Jamie asked, an almost convincing worry on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Steve choked. “It’s… it’s good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure, Steve?” Sam asked, all innocent. He enjoyed hot food even more than Bucky. Last time they had a contest with it, he had still been smiling serenely when Bucky had given up and downed about a gallon of milk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look a little uncomfortable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” There was a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead now, and Bucky couldn’t help himself and smiled. “It’s… really… it’s good. Please… tell Jonath-” he started coughing, and Bucky couldn’t hold back any more. He started laughing. Letting go of some of the wound up emotions unraveling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both Sam and Jamie joined in, which was what made Steve give up, running for the fridge and downing milk straight from the carton.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky was laughing too hard to remind him that Steve hated it when others did that. Then again, he did finish it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you say you love me?” Steve rasped, glaring at Bucky, that had Jamie laugh even harder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do, Stevie, but seriously, how could you </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>know they were tampered with?” Bucky grinned, moving forward to press a butterfly kiss to Steve’s flushed cheek, ignoring the laughter from behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does Jonathan know you used him to trick Steve?” There was only the slightest of reprimands in Sam’s voice, but Jamie sobered immediately. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. It was his idea to rig the white one with the hottest pepper.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell him he did a good job.” Steve said, fanning air to his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taking pity on his lover, Bucky took some white bread out of the pantry and handed it over to him. “Never say I don’t do anything for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As his mouth was full of bread, Steve threw him a mock glare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is it going upstairs?” Sam asked after taking another sip of his by now probably stone cold coffee and shivering in disgust. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky didn’t freeze. Neither did the others. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>None of them commented that they had heard the lie.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So... Thoughts? :D</p><p>I want to also thank the people on the discord for coming up with some prompts for this!</p><p>Please let me know what you think! I live for comments :D</p><p>Stay safe, sane and optimistic, my lovely readers!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Tony: Aha.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tony has a normal day for ones.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey everyone :) </p><p>This chapter is rather happy, BUT WARNING: there is a vague mention of severe self harm in this. It’s just a few sentences and absolutely vague, but please stay safe! For more information write me a comment! </p><p>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Oh god, Tony what happened?“</p><p>
  <span>Shit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper was already on him, her hands carefully moving his face, to get a better look at his cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cut didn’t even look that bad anymore this morning. Not that it had looked bad yesterday. Just a little red and puffy. Nothing to worry about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It‘s nothing Pep, just a little accident.“ That would have been a lot more believable if Clint hadn‘t bandaged him up, because Pepper knew Tony would never bother. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her thumb lingered a moment longer on his cheek, right under the cut. Looking up, she met his eyes. There was worry in them, understanding. And fear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Last year around this time, Tony had had a setback. A massive one. The first anniversary had been… hard. And the fact that it was just three weeks before the deathday of his parents… it still didn’t excuse what he had done. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least not to Pepper who had found him. Or to Rhodey who would take time off to be with him for the third week of December every year since his parents had died. Who had been two weeks too late to stop Tony. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time the cut actually had been an accident and she knew he hadn’t lied about that. Pepper didn’t know where he got it or why it was cleaned and bandaged - but if he was lucky she might think he was getting better. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know you even had butterfly bandages.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony just smiled at her. That was his clever Pepper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice try.” He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I’m fine Pep, I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll find out what you’re hiding, Mr. Stark. I always do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughed - and it wasn’t even forced. Bantering with Pepper was almost as safe as bantering with Rhodey. It showed him he was fine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, you will, you’re running my life.” Walking over to his desk - who was he kidding this was Pepper’s desk he occasionally used with his name tag on it - he let himself fall on the chair that had Pepper’s setting. “By the way, light of my life, the contract with the Avengers has been finalized. They will sign it tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s great.” Pepper’s smile was only the tiniest bit strained.  “How high did you go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thirty and some tech.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That poor Dom must have had a heart attack.” Her smile had widened. When she had started to work for Tony she too had been flustered and embarrassed by the way he flung his money around. By now, she was used to it - even if she still disapproved of it when it wasn’t either for the company, for some charity or when Tony did something for himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>And no Tony, something to keep up appearances for the press is not what I mean, Jesus Christ!</span>
  </em>
  <span> had been her last exasperated comment been when he had bought another fast car he probably wouldn’t drive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think he had a problem with a sub giving him that kind of money?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that Pepper actually laughed. “Did you not see the sub who is his business partner? He couldn’t care less that it comes from a sub, Tony. He has a problem with the amount of money. And that is exactly the reason why you pushed it higher, isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes it was. But it was also important that the Avengers had enough money. After seeing what they did with the little they had, Tony wanted to give them everything they needed, because he actually… trusted them to do good with it. Not only because of the restrictions on it. Most of the tech he had brought them had been with the subs. Everything, actually, aside from one Starkpad and one Laptop. They had given thousands of dollars to their clients without blinking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They need it.” That had been supposed to be flippant. Sadly, it wasn’t. Actually, it missed the goal so spectacularly that Tony thought about fleeing. Not that Pepper wouldn’t have hunted him down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I’m very proud of you for annoying them into taking the money, Tony.” Pepper smiled her best-friend-smile. “And don’t think I don’t know Jarvis has already bought all three of the houses.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would never think that.” And he wouldn’t, he wasn’t that stupid. “Did you confirm it or did you know because you're omniscient?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t it be both?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You checked, didn’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just to know how much money you’ll lose when you sell them to the Avengers.” She said, grabbing some documents and placing them right in front of him, small yellow post-it notes sticking out every which way indicating where he had to sign them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Starting with the one at the top, Tony used it as a distraction. “I’ll sell them for the same money I got them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But what?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Tony, I don’t have all day, what did you do with the houses?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did nothing to the houses. It would have been way too suspicious.” He said haughtily, still avoiding to look at Pepper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stayed quiet, obviously trying to guess what Tony had done - because she was right. Of course, he had done something. They needed to move in yesterday.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You relocated the tenants, didn’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Totally unrelated, I might have bought some real estate for taxes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aha.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No one could make an ‘aha’ sound as disbelieving as Pepper. It was one of her super powers. And making assholes wish they had never crossed her. (Pepper could be brutal and horrifying if she wanted to be.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is that?” Picking the contract up with only his index finger and thumb he held it far away from himself as if it was the most disgusting thing he had ever seen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper sighed. “You said you wanted to get into prosthetics.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. That means I want to make good ones. What makes this </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hammer trash</span>
  </em>
  <span> here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know perfectly well they are the best american company working on them. Isn’t that why you wanted to get into it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“First of, you take that back, Hammer is not the best in anything. Not even fucking up. That’s how terrible they are. Secondly, yes, someone has to do something about that, because hell, I just can’t let that stand. And lastly, that doesn’t explain this </span>
  <em>
    <span>filth</span>
  </em>
  <span> on my desk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“First: it’s a fact whether you like it or not. Second: We’re trying. That’s also third, because, I don’t know if you knew that, Tony,” she looked pointedly on the wall behind him displaying his doctorates and master degrees, “but in the science world people use the research from other companies and researchers and improve on it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, if it is at all usable, but this is </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hammer</span>
  </em>
  <span> we’re talking about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper sighed again. “You know perfectly well that the basic research is… usable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Blasphemy!” Tony tossed the contract towards her. “Is there no one better we could work with?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper raised one of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows. There wasn’t. Hammer, although cheap and stupid (and a Switch that </span>
  <em>
    <span>desperately</span>
  </em>
  <span> wanted to be a Dom - and probably to be taken seriously) did employ good people. And their alternatives would probably be sitting in Asia. Which wasn’t a big problem - just that alone the negotiation would take forever and Justin would just cream his pants for being able to tell the press he was working with SI. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don't wanna work with Hammer.” He whined, miserably.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one wants to work with Hammer.” Pepper placed the contract in front of Tony again. “That’s why we will get the deal cheap. And then you’ll improve the tech, make it work, we can sell it, do some good with it and you can buy more houses for the next good cause you’ll obsess about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did I tell you how much I hate it when you make sense?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I remember you saying that before.” She placed her index finger to her painted lips, looking for all intents and purposes as if deep in thought. “Jarvis, refresh my memory.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sir has told you this or variations of it 739 times. The first was the day you met.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks Jarvis.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A pleasure, Miss Potts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re both terrible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper smiled pleasantly at him. “Sign the contract Tony and I’ll promise I’m not going to leave you alone with him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You better not, last time I was close to killing him.” And he had been. Not only had the asshole hit on him in the most insufferable way possible (by belittling him), he had also said nothing but the bullshittiest bullshit that had ever bullshitted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, he is not stupid enough to even look wrong at you this time or he knows I will kill him.” There was a hint of a threat in her voice and it was crystal clear in her eyes. Tony knew she would do it. And even better: Hammer knew it too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony smiled up at her, before signing right beside the post-it note. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper would kill the asshole not because she thought Tony couldn’t, but because they were family and Pepper protected her family. No matter the designation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After finishing his paperwork stoically - Pepper was a dirty liar, he hadn’t whined through all of it! Only most of it, but who wouldn’t. Especially since Tony knew she could forge his signature and thought she should just do it but apparently Miss </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll-drag-your-intestines-out-through-your-nose-if-you-ever-look-at-Mr.-Stark-like-that-again-Mr.-Hammer</span>
  </em>
  <span> had moral concerns regarding it - his evil assistant dragged him to a meeting, in which he contemplated building a deathray just because he could, before being forced to go out for dinner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Pepper knew the conditions that were absolutely not negotiable for him to eat outwards, she had prepared everything carefully. Her assistant had leaked that Pepper would meet a high ranking  business partner in another restaurant, making sure the paparazzi were following another car, or were waiting at the wrong restaurant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like last year the press had started to take an interest in Tony again and what had happened to him, Ty and Obadiah since the ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>judgment of the century</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ as some liked to call it. Whether that was because a sub had won against his abusers or because they thought some asshole rich kid had thrown two innocent Doms behind bars was changing from paper to paper. And from day to day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony hadn’t commented on any of it. Not during the court hearings and not afterwards. The pictures they still used were bad enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Forcing himself to finish the meal, Tony listened to everything Pepper had to tell him. Mostly about SI. But her sister had finally decided to tie the knot with her sub - and was apparently shopping for collars. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“By now I think I have seen </span>
  <em>
    <span>every collar</span>
  </em>
  <span> in existence!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughed. “Why don’t you fly down to her and help her pick one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, no. Last time I flew to visit my family you bought a flower shop just because you wanted to experiment with hyacinths.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That wasn’t the reason!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s your story and you’re sticking with it, I know, but-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever!” Tony interrupted, holding up his fork, a tortellini dangling from it. “Fly down there, Pep, I know you miss her. I promise I’m not buying any flower shops.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope, you’re not getting rid of me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then invite her over. New York has the best jewelers anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As if Jen isn’t getting suspicious when Ady is flying up to New York.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s going to be christmas in, like, three weeks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That or you fly down there, Pep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper laughed, even if her eyes stayed on his, as if searching for something. “You drive a hard bargain, Tony, and don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m doing nothing!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bullshit. Ady always takes your side when you flutter those long lashes to her so you can get out of paperwork.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would never do that!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aha.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was that very moment the owner of the restaurant stepped towards them, placing a massive amount of Tartufo in front of Tony. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re too skinny, Tony.” She scolded, wriggling her index finger at him. “You need to eat more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Biting back the first response sitting on his tongue, he smiled up at the old sub. He'd been coming here since he was sixteen and Maria had adopted him from the very first visit. And no, that she was a beautifully, brown haired italian sub that had the same name as his mother, who actually gave a shit about him had nothing to do with it that he was still coming back here. It was just because of the amazing food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How many portions are this, zia?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One.” The woman said, crossing her arms in front of her chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is a soup bowl.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. One soup bowl. One portion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll explode if I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nonsense!” Grabbing the spoon and pushing it in, Maria pushed the bowl closer to him. “I’ll come back when you've finished this, piccolo.” She turned on her heels, leaving Tony in front of a dessert big enough to feed at least five hungry people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking up pleadingly at Pepper Tony pushed the dessert in the middle between them. “Help me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper just laughed. Because she could be an asshole like that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the end she did help, but even together they weren’t able to eat more than half of it. Maria packed up the leftovers for them - which included probably all the stuff they'd had in the kitchen, as she handed over a huge bag with four containers in it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They promised to come back before the year ended and to bring Rhodey with them, and left. Pepper to rule Stark Industries with an Iron Fist and Tony to work on some project. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just didn’t tell her that before he would go down into his workshop, he was going to deliver the contract to the Avengers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taking another sip from his thermos, Tony inhaled deeply, calming himself down a little. This was fine. Everything was fine. Sure, he might be losing it, but what else was new?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Getting out of the car, he clutched the contract in his hand, tightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything was fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took another sip from the thermos.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Absolutely everything was fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Walking towards the white door, he was thankful for the darkness and that the street lamp to his right was broken.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He liked Clint and the other subs. That was no problem. He probably just wanted to help them, right? Right. No big deal at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Walking up the three steps, he exhaled again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the Doms were absolutely no concern of his. They might be a little… belittling? Careful? Whatever they were, they were good people. He had vetted them. He had met them. And no matter that they were clumsy and/or very pleasing to the eye, he just needed the signatures and then they could start to work on the houses and before they all knew it, this was a thing of the past, the Avengers had enough rooms and money to work, and Tony could focus back on his job.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Easy as pi. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So why was it so hard to ring the fucking door bell?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steeling himself, he pushed the little button, waiting for the by now almost familiar sound of the chains and bolts being removed. He really needed to build them better security. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door opened and Clint smiled at him. “Hey Tony. I’m always happy to see you, but that you came right fucking now is amazing, because that means Sam ows me twenty bucks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“CLINT!” Mr. Rogers yelled from behind the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see you haven’t been fired yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope.” Clint stepped back, motioning him inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door was pushed close behind him, letting him see that Mr. Rogers tried very hard to calm his expression as he still glared at Clint, before looking over, his eyes widening. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re injured!” Mr. Rogers took one step closer but stopped dead when he realised what he had done. Something almost akin to shock flashing through his eyes, before he visibly deflated, loosening his stance and forcing a relaxed expression on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s nothing.” Tony smiled his calming, relaxed smile, approved by Pepper herself to be used in social interactions. “Just a little accident.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see you have brought your own coffee, clever move.” Clint stepped closer to him, not touching him just yet, but offering the possibility. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is Miss Romanov here, too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She is, but you better not let her hear you still call her 'Miss Romanov'.” Clint winked at him, bumping him softly with his shoulder. “Want to come upstairs and go get her with me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because Mr. Rogers couldn’t get her if she was upstairs. And Clint wanted to offer him a way out of staying alone with the Dom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s okay.” Because it was. There was absolutely no reason to be worried at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Clint bumped him again with his shoulder, before going over to the stairs, leaving him alone with Mr. Rogers, who looked as lost and uncomfortable as Tony felt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Great.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll do this in the kitchen?” Tony guessed, using everything he had ever learned about fake it until you make it, smiling politely at the Dom who, thankfully, took the cue, even if there was a slight blush on his pale cheeks - which Tony didn’t notice at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” He hesitated only for a second before leading the way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the kitchen was Bu- Mr. Barnes, sitting at the table in front of the laptop and stacks of files all around him. He looked up when he saw Tony, his blue eyes lightning up, before he stiffened and then relaxed. All that happened so fast most people wouldn’t have even seen it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony wasn’t most people. And this didn’t even have anything to do with him being a certified genius.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Barnes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bucky.” The Dom said, a lopsided smile on his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Bucky.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Rogers, apparently very focused on clearing some part of the table, put two stacks on the counter before backing away from the chair as if it might eat him. If so it was a totally shitty thing to offer it to Tony. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the bright side, his nervousness calmed some of the spikes of anxiety in Tony. Neither of the Doms looked dangerous right now. The opposite, actually.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were good people. He had checked this. The other subs had told him that. And Clint would be back any moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that Tony didn’t know how fast situations could go wrong. How wrong he could be when judging people. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he could actually start to freak, Clint and Miss Ro- Tasha stepped into the kitchen. Both were smiling pleasantly, although there was an edge to the female sub that calmed down some after looking over all of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Tony.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Tasha.” He smiled at her, noticing how she relaxed when he did, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had absolutely no idea what the fuck was going on, but that was not the reason he had come here, so repression it was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint, either freakishly knowing that Tony felt better when he was close or not giving a flying fuck - it was both equally plausible from everything Tony had seen so far - dragged a chair close to Tony and let himself fall down on it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that the contract?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s my tax report.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think that fits on just two pieces of paper.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony smiled. A real smile. One he normally only showed Pepper and Rhodey. “You have no idea how much I manipulate it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint laughed, throwing one arm around his shoulder and letting it lie there. Letting his warmth seep into Tony and calming him. It should freak Tony out - and it did - but it was also almost addicting. Feeling something akin to calm without using his friends for that… it was exhilarating. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I see it?” Miss- Tasha asked and Tony handed it over. She and Mr. Rogers studied it, obviously noting their demand was listed in the attachment paper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you-” Mr. Rogers started again, but Mr.- Bucky shut him up with a glare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As you can see, I already signed.” Was all Tony said, not wanting to draw this out anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tasha looked him over for one moment longer, before grabbing a pen from the kitchen counter and signing  it. Then she handed both of it to Steve and glared at him until he followed suit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have a copier?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had, upstairs. While Nat- Tasha made a copy of it, Clint asked if Tony wanted to join them for dinner. Tony didn’t even have to lie that he was still full from lunch, something all of them seemed to notice. Which was a problem. Normally he was a grade A liar, that all of them could read him this easily was concerning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Coming back, Tasha handed him the original, keeping the copy for themselves and placing it on one of the more unstable looking piles of files.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Folding the original and putting it in the inside pocket of his jacket he got the other contract out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As I understand it, you’re interested in buying my houses.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a second of silence, Clint started laughing. He leaned forwards, putting his head on Tony’s shoulder and just laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no way Tony could hold the grin back that threatened to split his face when he felt warmth spread through his whole body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well played, Mr. Stark.” Tasha said, nodding appreciatively. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Miss Romanov.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Letting his gaze wander to Mr. Rogers, Tony all but blushed. He had expected to see anger in the Dom. Or frustration. Maybe even some patronizing protectiveness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead the Dom looked at him like he was… Tony didn’t even have words for it. Neither had he words for the way his stomach made a backflip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glancing over to Bucky he was shocked to see a similar expression on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His stomach must have gone and become a trapeze artist in the last heartbeat judging by whatever it was that it did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only thing keeping him semi calm were Clint’s warm arms around him. And the feeling of rightness that had settled in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What the actual fuck? </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for beta reading to De_Marvel_Bunny and my biologist for listening to me whine. </p><p>Thank you for your comments they motivate me to no end! </p><p>If you have questions or ideas put them in the comments or join us in the discord :) </p><p>Stay safe, sane and optimistic my lovelies!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Steve: Therefore, it’s you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>We see a week and a half in the live of Steve Rogers.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey everyone!</p><p>As the kudos are steadily climbing and we're at almost at one hundred bookmarks, all I can say is thank you. Thank you so much!</p><p>Also a big thank you to De_Marvel_Bunny and my biologist, you two rock!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Steve had known Mr. Stark was beautiful. His caramel-brown eyes that were as expressive as his melodic voice. The way he moved like he was dancing. The way his strength shone through everything he did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It hadn’t prepared him though. Seeing Mr. Stark in his element, no, that, wasn’t it. Seeing him confident in the Fortress, around people he barely knew and two Doms that were potentially a threat to him, was something else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, he smiled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the world stopped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark’s eyes lightened to an almost honey-golden colour, years of stress and agony seemingly vanishing as he smiled first at Clint, leaning closer into his touch and all but glowing because of Nat's praise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he looked at Steve, still smiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Steve knew he had fallen for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was so different from when he had realized he was in love with Bucky. They had known each other for years and one day just understood that they had been in a relationship without knowing it. (Even if everyone else had apparently known it.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This? It was like the sun shining for the first time. As if this man he barely knew was </span>
  <em>
    <span>meant</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be with them. As if, without knowing, Bucky and he had been waiting for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark looked away from him, meeting Bucky’s eyes and Steve felt a twinge in his heart. Because To- Mr. Stark had looked away. And because Bucky looked as enthralled as Steve felt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had both fallen for the genius. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he was turning into a sap. Or a worse one, if you could believe Bucky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nat would kill them and she had every right to do so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since when do you have the houses?” Nat asked, making Mr. Stark look at her, which was probably best, because both he and Bucky really needed to calm down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that really important?” Mr. Stark’s smile had lessened some, but there was also a new edge of irony to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on Tony, tell us your evil master plan.” Clint was still half draped over the genius who didn’t show any sign of discomfort. Which was good. Of course, it was good. There was absolutely no logical reason why Steve would want to be the one clinging to the genius. Aside from having lost his mind just now. God, did he hope no one had paid too close attention to his expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you buy the houses and then trick Nat and Steve to come to you so that you could make us buy the houses? If you mind-tricked Nat, you’re the coolest person ever!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark smiled, unconsciously leaning closer to the other sub, still smiling at Nat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even if I had, I wouldn’t admit to that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since when, Tony?” Nat asked, her voice changing just the slightest bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark just smiled back at her, not budging. Not many people were brave enough to refuse Nat answers. And having vetted them, he probably knew more about what she had done and could do than most people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can hack too, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that, he chuckled, almost patronizingly - something that could get people killed around here, but Mr. Stark didn’t seem the slightest bit concerned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you can hack </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> you deserve to find out.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nat’s lips twitched. “The game is on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be my guest, Red, but don’t be too disappointed if you fail.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uuuuhhhh.” Clint laughed. “If it’s just hacking my money is on Tony, but if she is allowed to do her spy shit, you have no chance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark’s smile just widened. “We’ll see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nat’s finger’s moved over the pen in her hand as if it was a knife, not that she needed one. Steve had seen her kill with a paperclip one time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe we should-” He tried to interrupt the situation at the same time Bucky did too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My money is on Tony, too, sorry Nat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The female sub’s smile turned positively evil now. “I can understand Tony underestimating me, but you Bucky? I didn’t think you’d be that stupid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not stupid if I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> that you would never try to hurt him.” Bucky said, shrugging nonchalantly. “I have no idea where he draws a line and apparently he hacks the national security for shits and giggles and bought the houses we need to expand, so…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky was right, of course. As long as Mr. Stark didn’t pose a threat to them, Nat would never breach his trust like that. She wanted him to trust them as much as all of them. Heck, she was ready to protect him from Bucky and Steve when she trusted them with her life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hacked the CIA, too. Don’t you remember?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we really having a fight over who broke more laws?” Steve asked, not sure how all of this had derailed like that. And weirdly happy that it had, because now he could focus on being exasperated rather than anything else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s actually an interesting question. Tony?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was not a challenge, Clint!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint just winked at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With actual proof and records?” Mr. Stark asked, a new spark in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure, why not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Rogers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Steve asked, shocked, while everyone else started laughing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark looked at him, mischief shining in his eyes. It almost hid the way he moved back against Clint as if searching for protection. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t been convicted once. There are suspicions against me, but they are few and far between. After all, a sub couldn’t do that, right?” It was said in a mocking tone even if there was an acidic edge to it. “Tasha has a lot of suspicions on her, although I think the numbers are way off. There haven’t been any convictions, though. Clint has a few, but as we are not going for severity he makes only third place. Bucky has twenty one on record, even if all but two haven’t even been to court. You, Mr. Rogers have twenty-seven on record. Three have been taken to court. You have won once and lost twice. You had to do community service both times and were joined by Bucky once. Therefore, it’s you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I…” Steve didn’t know what to say. Mr. Stark was correct, of course. Two of those times he had been to court had been while he was still a teenager when he and Bucky had gotten in back-alley fights. What was worse was that all of those instances had been cases of physical violence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, Mr. Rogers, I did my research. I know that you were either protecting someone directly or stopped someone attacking you in all of those instances.” Mr. Stark smiled, this one carefully calm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will definitely keep you.” Clint put his chin back on Mr. Stark's shoulder, who just rolled his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clint!” Steve couldn’t have stopped himself even if he wanted to. It had been a joke, and yes, Nat had explained it, but still. It was highly inappropriate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Tony has bought the houses we need, he clearly wants to be an Avenger.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Mr. Stark stiffened in Clint’s arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, you’re as good as one, anyways. Expect a schedule for night shifts in your mail next month.” Clint said dismissively. “What about the houses, then? When can we move in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clint!” Steve growled, receiving glares both from Nat and Bucky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark glanced at Steve, something like defiance on his face and that wasn’t what Steve had wanted at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can move in whenever you want. The tenants on the one right beside you have already moved out. There is still a few things that have to be worked on, but-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait.” Bucky interrupted and Tony- Mr. Stark’s eyes flashed over to him, not hiding his flinch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I talked to Mrs. Cooper a couple weeks ago, she said all of them had moved to better apartments and that the owner had already started to renovate it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark raised his chin in a clear challenge. “Was there a question I didn’t hear?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did all this? That was months ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark didn’t answer. Instead he let the silence linger, apparently unaffected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As I said, well played.” Nat moved over to the two other subs. “I sign on the dotted line, I presume?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nat!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh come on, Steve. I’m sure he’ll get a lawyer if we don’t sign.” She looked over her shoulder, meeting Steve’s eyes. She was serious. This was happening. Not that Steve was against it. Heck, it just proved how little of a chance they all had. It seemed like Mr. Stark used his genius for more than just technology. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope, I would just annoy you into accepting.” His melodic voice was a little less sure than before, but the fight hadn’t left his shoulders yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would help.” Clint grinned threateningly at Steve. “I want my room back!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your room?” Mr. Stark tried to move in Clint’s embrace who only let go reluctantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nat and I had a room upstairs before we had to move out for more clients.” Clint said. “We use them for night shifts. Now we have to either sleep in the room with the Doms or crash on a couch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quit whining, you baby, we slept on the ground for years.” Bucky said, grinning at the sub.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, and now we shouldn’t have to anymore!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint didn’t quit whining, even after Steve signed too and Nat made another copy of the contract.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony- Mr. Stark brought them very comfortable air mattresses the next day. At least that was what Clint told them after trying them out. Seeing as the other subs agreed, they got a delivery the following day with more air mattresses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As it was their weekend off, Bucky and he had left the fortress in the capable hands of Thor, a laid-back Dom they had met during their time in the army, who now had a law firm with his brother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peeling the potatoes before him, Steve tried very hard to not think about the Fortress. Bucky and he basically lived in their work, so they had strict rules about not talking about the job while they were off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Also, everytime he let his thoughts wander, they snapped to a specific beautiful man that started to actually drive him crazy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, concentrating on the potatoes it was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can hear you overthinking, you know?” Bucky stepped behind him, pressing a kiss to his neck before opening the can with pears. Tonight he was responsible for the desert and because it was a favourite of Steve’s he made </span>
  <em>
    <span>Pear Helene</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve didn’t answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know we have to talk about this.” Bucky nudged him with his knee. “And I mean actually talking about it, not the not-talking we did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky was right of course. One of the best and worst things about having opened the Fortress was the fact they all had trained in communications and introspective reflection, went to training and seminars at least once a year and they all went to a psychiatrist once a month to make sure they were coping with what they did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It helped immensely with their stressful jobs and accepting what they could and couldn’t do. It also had the side effect that all of them had started to actually talk about shi- stuff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Bucky, the stable one of the two even after losing his arm, used their knowledge against Steve whenever he could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We like Tony.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve almost flinched. Because Bucky just said it like that. And because it was the understatement of the year.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you start telling me these are perfectly normal feelings for a Dom, I will tell Nat you offered to put up the Christmas decorations by yourself.” Which they had to do on Monday anyways. It was already fifth of December, but because of certain unnamed geniuses and the buying of three properties, they hadn't really had time for it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that was just the beginning. They were also applying to expand their licence to be able to foster forty clients. Loki and Thor were already on that one, while they had to ask Bruce and May in the next week if they wanted to work full time with them. There just hadn’t been time to put up the lights.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t.” Bucky sat down beside Steve and started to cut the onions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence stretched between them and Steve wished Bucky would just say whatever he wanted to say, because Steve really had no idea what to do. They liked him, yes. They had fallen for him, which was not only basically against their rules, but they also didn’t even know him! That was what finally burst out of him, when he was frying the potatoes, onions and mushrooms in their big pan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t even know him!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking up from where Bucky smothered the pears under mousse au chocolat, the other Dom grinned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what? All we know is that he is not dealing with the aftermath of his abuse and that he has money! How can we-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And that he is gorgeous and funny and clever. He has a good heart. He stands up to Doms and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nat</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> fallen for a sub! Shit, we weren’t even thinking about looking for one!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean, and?” Steve glared at his lover. “Something is wrong with us! The second he walks by we lose all our brain cells and-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think we had that many to begin with.” Bucky chuckled while sprinkling some cranberries on his creation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This isn’t funny, Bucky!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that he looked up, meeting Steve’s eyes. His expression was calm and in control.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want me to say, Stevie? You had practically fallen for him the second you met him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve hadn’t told him that, but he wasn’t surprised Bucky knew. He could read him like an open book.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I have fallen the second he stepped foot into the Fortress, deciding to repair our showers just because.” He shrugged. “It’s biology, what can you do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the-” Steve glared at his lover, but was interrupted before he could actually start.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, I don’t mean it like that, Steve, geez, will you calm down?” Leaning back, he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I don’t mean we just go to him and ask him to be a part of our relationship. We just have to accept that it is what it is and-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But we don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> what it is.” That came out exactly as miserable as Steve had feared it would. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was the worst about their situation: they had no idea what was going on. And it scared Steve. It scared him that he wanted to wrap Mr. Stark in his arms the moment he saw him. It scared him that he felt like it was the right thing to do, even if he was still guarded around them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was scared about the fact how much his inner Dom had purred when Tony- </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mr. Stark!</span>
  </em>
  <span> had relaxed enough around them to actually get in a discussion about their security measures without Clint around. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It happened yesterday. Clint had had his day off and apparently not told Mr. Stark. But instead of vanishing upstairs, he had put a laptop down on their kitchen table and explained to them matter-of-factly that they had the very free choice of deciding between three different security systems he would provide them with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had gotten to the point where Mr. Stark had jumped off his chair, almost pushing Bucky backwards who had taken a second longer to react and went over to their front door, explaining in detail why this was suparp, why all of his systems were better, and why this system wasn’t going to work when they had two houses, even if they would make a breakthrough to the other house in the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark had obviously forgotten where he had been and who he had been talking to, as he had become more animated, throwing his arms out wide, while explaining why they, ex-soldiers who had experience in breaking into places and defending their hideouts, had no idea what they talked about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And aside from taking Steve’s breath away with his fire and exuberants, Mr. Stark made good points.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Nat had joined them ten minutes later, she had listened to Mr. Stark for all of three minutes before letting him decide that they should get the third option.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve had been too stunned to say anything before Jamie came down and stole him away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nat hadn’t said a word, just looked at them with that all-knowing look she sometimes got.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On Monday they put up all the lights while Jamie, Jonathan and To- Mr. Stark decorated their dining room. Even though Tony Stark, billionaire and icon, was helping to put up Christmas charms, the most surprising thing was that Jonathan dared to come downstairs. He hadn’t since he had run to them and, if Jamie was to be believed, he was only doing it now because of Mr. Stark. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Said man had flushed a dark red when Jamie had told him, before agreeing to help them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve had, of course, not been allowed to help (or spy).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he met Mr. Stark again, a single strand of tinsel had been hanging from his head, while he was installing a video camera in the corner of their entrance, angling it in a way that it would capture the person on the steps and the road behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint had been beside him, passing him the tools he demanded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This should do until I can get the rest done.” Mr. Stark had mumbled while brushing past Steve. He had barely been able to listen while battling with the almost inhuman desire to pick the golden tinsel out of his dark locks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t though. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wednesday they got the info their licence would be expanded if they could prove they had the staff and the rooms for it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thursday May accepted the position. Bruce agreed on Friday after meeting Mr. Stark for the first time and being told by the certified genius that his work on anti-electron collision was unparalleled and whether or not he could steal Bruce for himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nat and he haggled it out, agreeing that Bruce would be employed by the Avengers but could be lent to Tony- Mr. Stark, who promised Bruce an amazing lab.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Switch was obviously too surprised to do anything but agree when Mr. Stark explained in detail to him what he would be able to play with, as the genius put it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve had absolutely no idea what they were talking about, but the way Bruce’s eyes lit up was enough for him to know it was a dream come true for the quiet man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The night after, Loki helped Nat and Steve to finalize their papers so that they could get everything over and done with before Christmas. Something that was almost a miracle. If you didn’t know Loki Odinson. As he still had almost two weeks, it wasn’t really a challenge for him. Or at least that was what he told them, a hard smile on his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve believed him. They had been working with him since the very beginning. He and Thor were handling all of their cases for little money or doing them pro bono </span>
  <em>
    <span>for the publicity</span>
  </em>
  <span>, not that they needed that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My brother told me Tony Stark financed this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve looked up and into the sharp green eyes. “He doesn’t want to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Switch scoffed. “You know very well that I can keep a secret.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you ask?” Clint moved closer, leaning into his side. He and Loki had an open relationship for almost two years now and Steve was just glad that Clint wasn’t sitting in the other man’s lap yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What Stark does or doesn’t do normally doesn’t stay quiet long.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve liked Loki. He really did. Under all the slick exterior was a really good heart. Still, he hated that he was allergic to giving straight answers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think he knows how to hide his tracks.” Nat took another sip of the stuff she called coffee, eyeing the Switch carefully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure he does.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it ever comes out, the consequences could be massive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t matter, babe.” Clint said, stealing a cookie from Nat’s plate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, it doesn't.” Loki agreed, amiably, not saying why he had brought it up in the first place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh that reminds me, the kitchen is off limits tomorrow from 10 to 11:30 am.” Clint said, trying to steal another one. As Nat hit his hand with a stinging slap, he lost that cookie to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” Bucky sat close to Steve, as if to calm him. Both of them had gotten exceedingly nervous in the last week. Which had, of course, nothing to do with a certain dark haired genius.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam is going to give Jonathan and Tony the biology lesson tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know the-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know what- Jonathan will come down to talk to Sam?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, he agreed to do it if Tony accompanies him and as I think Tony doesn’t know anything about his needs either, I thought it would be a good idea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It probably was. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The biology lesson</span>
  </em>
  <span>, as they called it, was half part therapy session and half part lesson about hormones, pheromones and everything the american school system didn’t teach their pupils about their designation that wasn’t basically a way to apologize the asshole behaviour of Doms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you get him to agree?” Bucky asked, leaning forward. After everything Clint had said, or rather hinted at, all of them had supposed To- Mr. Stark might not have been educated about his needs. Which was concerning considering the fact that he must have been in therapy before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jonathan asked him to come along.” Clint shrugged, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So he is getting better?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint smiled. “I’m telling you, Tony is going to become an Avenger sooner or later. He is a natural at working with distressed subs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t though. He probably just did what he had wanted others to do for him when he had been suffering. But then again, this was how Clint and Nat had started to. Heck, Steve, although not a sub, had started out like this, too, hadn’t he?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve didn’t know why that had his heart make backflips all of a sudden. Grabbing Bucky’s hand under the table, he pressed down on it. There were a lot more pressing matters than Mr. Stark. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even if he couldn’t think of any while sitting in front of their expansion plans.  </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Stay safe, sane and optimistic!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Tony: Biology Lesson</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tony goes to a Biology Lesson because of Jonathan - and learns more than he wanted to.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER! They are in the End Notes - if you have questions: write me a comment! There is nothing graphic in this but it gets intense.</p><p>Once again I want to thank all of you. We're over 450 Kudos by now - I don't know what to say - and I'm an author and speak two languages fluently!</p><p>Again thanks to De_Marvel_Bunny and SpagBol99 for their help!</p><p>The biggest THANK YOU goes out to my biologist who helped me create this AMAZING WORLD!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>How the hell did it come to this?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, really! Tony would pay good money if someone would be able to - logically! - explain to the genius how it had happened that he, the CEO of a multi billion company, a certified genius, was sitting at an old kitchen table in Brooklyn, a distressed sub clutching his arm waiting for a </span>
  <em>
    <span>biology lesson </span>
  </em>
  <span>to start. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What the fuck?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonathan shivered slightly and Tony started to pat his leg reassuringly, only stopping when he realised what he was doing. As Jonathan moved closer as soon as he stopped, he resumed patting him, hoping to every deity that might or might not exist - and Jarvis - that he didn’t fuck this up. Jonathan didn’t deserve that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What the hell had the kid been thinking? Asking Tony to come to this apparently ultra important lesson about </span>
  <em>
    <span>how your body fucks you over</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Tony had heard a lot of them before and when it hadn’t been outright rape-apology, they had always tried to circumvent it as best as possible, saying that, in the end, they were all just animals and the subs had to put up with whatever was done to them, as was their purpose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Sam did tell Jonathan that, Tony would cut their funding, report them, take all of the subs with him and probably kick him in the balls just out of principle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But what else was there to tell Jonathan in ninety minutes? </span>
  <em>
    <span>'Sucks that you’re a sub, this is how your own body fucks you over and now that we’re at the topic this is how you can get through it, at least?' </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that Tony thought Sam would say it like that. The Switch was, as far as his record went, as clean as the others. He was working as a counselor, too, and he hadn’t been anything but nice and respectful up until this point. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>God, Tony wanted a drink. And to flee. But he couldn’t because of a ninety pound octopus that was clutching at him as if Tony could save him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t. But that wouldn’t stop him from trying his hardest. Why the fuck weren’t Clint or Jamie here with them, damnit!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonathan exhaled another shuddering breath and Tony couldn’t stop himself, he wrestled his arm free to lay it around Jonathan’s back, guiding him closer to himself, letting the kid hug him around his middle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay there, Jona?” He asked, rubbing his back soothingly, trying to appear a lot more calm and in control than he felt - although granted, for entirely different reasons, he imagined. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonathan had come to the Fortress about 6 weeks ago and hadn’t been down from the higher floors before he and Jamie had forced Tony to help them decorate the dining hall. (Tony had helped them just because Jonathan had looked up at him with his big Bambi eyes. It hadn’t been too bad. Tony hadn’t even thrown up on the Christmas decorations, despite his revolting stomach.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stepping into a space that had Dom and Switch pheromones mixed with the familiar sub ones had been okay, although Jonathan had been stressed when they returned upstairs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Today was worse for him. Not only because he was sitting in the small kitchen that was all but drenched in the Dom and Switch pheromones, but today Sam would come to them. He would be in the same room as them and it obviously terrified the small sub.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can go back upstairs if you want, Jona. Sam won’t mind.” Tony actually didn’t know that - but if Sam did mind, he would really kick him, no matter if he was a good person.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonathan hesitated long enough for Tony to already move to stand. He remembered this state. Of course, he had been in a psychiatric hospital at that point. And they hadn’t had the fucking courtesy of actually giving him total space away from Doms. After all, who knew better to take care of an abused sub than a Dom having studied what the hormones did in his brain to make him feel like he did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No one apparently. That made him think, how was his stipendium program for subs studying medicine going? He would have to ask Pepper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...no…” The kid’s voice was barely loud enough for Tony to hear him as he still had his face buried in Tony’s side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure?” Tony couldn't help himself, he tugged the other sub closer, trying to give as much comfort as he could - which wasn’t all that much, granted. He would slap Clint the next time he saw him. What was he thinking? Putting Jonathan in his hands?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were fast falling footsteps in the hall, getting closer and Jonathan actually whimpered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony glared at the door, daring the Switch to come in and say </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> that wasn’t the nicest thing possible right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The footsteps slowed, before there was a calm, quiet knock at the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t something Tony had expected. Forcefully relaxing his muscles a little to - fucking hopefully - show Jonathan everything was fine, he looked down at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should I tell him to tail it?” Because Tony would do it. Hell, with the new shock-bracelets that were going to get out on the market around February, he would even be able to take him down if he had to, trained soldier or not. (Rhodey had complained for a week straight that he tasted metal when they had tried it on him - like the careful adults that they were.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonathan flinched, before shaking his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hesitated again before nodding. He didn’t move away from Tony, but turned his head enough to see the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come in.” Tony called, his arm holding the other sub close, trying to imitate what he had seen Jamie do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam opened the door without any haste, but also not looking as if he was trying to sneak in. Not commenting on the way Jonathan tried to crawl under Tony’s skin, he moved over to the table, sitting down calmly. There was an open smile on his expression when he placed his backpack on the floor beside him. Turning towards them, he placed his hands open on the table, letting them lay there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry for being late, I didn’t mean to make you wait.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony raised an eyebrow. That was not what he had expected either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glancing down to Jonathan, who most likely wouldn't say anything, Tony decided to lie, politely - something he had probably learned before walking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No problem.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam just smiled. “Is it okay if I get myself a coffee first? Do you need anything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, I’m good though. ” He nodded to his thermos on the table before nudging the other sub lightly. “Jona? You want anything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shaking his head almost unnoticeably, Jona buried a little closer still. If he clutched Tony any tighter he would get trouble breathing. With his luck, he was already getting bruised up - which had less to do with Jonathan’s strength than the fact that Tony bruised like a ripe banana. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Getting up, Sam turned, busying himself with fixing that atomic waste they called coffee. Tony used the time to smile down at Jonathan - something else he did without his higher brain power kicking in. What the fuck was going on?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the other sub relaxed a little when he saw the smile it didn’t matter all that much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sitting back down, Sam took a sip of the coffee and shuddered visibly. “You always think you can’t forget how awful it is - and then you drink it again and it’s somehow worse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do know you could make, like, better coffee, right?” Tony asked, a real smile on his lips, unsure of how it had gotten there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And anger Nat? I don’t think so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“People.” Tony sighed, tugging his phone out with his free hand and tipped a couple of times, basically agreeing to Jarvis who offered to buy a coffee machine and enough coffee beans to last them a year - even with their consumption, which rivaled Tony’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you just bought a coffee maker I’ll be forever in your debt - even though you did not have to do this, Tony.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It smells bad enough to want me to stop drinking coffee altogether - and when that happens I’m done for, so consider it self preservation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam smiled at that, but it had gotten a little thinner. “Okay.” Bending down and ruffling through his backpack for a minute he placed a laptop on the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d like to show you a PowerPoint presentation, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.” If Tony did know anything it was appearing to be listening while someone rambled while PowerPoint slides ran by.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took Sam a moment to set it all up and then turned the presentation towards them. It was just a white page with the words </span>
  <em>
    <span>Subionyl, Domionyl and Switchionyl </span>
  </em>
  <span>on it. Tony almost hit his head on the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As you know-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh great, they would be belittled from the very start. This was going to be so painful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“- everyone of us produces pheromones non stop. Because of that we instinctively know who has what designation. For us Switches it’s a little more complex as we produce both the Switchionyl and either Subionyl, if we tend to submissive behaviour or Domionyl if we tend to dominant behaviour. </span>
  <span>True Switches produce mostly Switchionyl and then either Subionyl or Dominonyl, whatever they are leaning to in the given situation.</span>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kids in kindergarten knew that. And Tony meant like actual children, not people like him, who had built their first circuit board at the age of four. </span>
  <span>If he followed this up with the '</span>
  <em>
    <span>your designation starts to change your body after you survived the hell that was puberty'</span>
  </em>
  <span> speech he would probably just get up and leave. If he started to explain that most parents made a blood test after their kid was born to see which designation they would be, he would definitely kick him in the knee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I say that at the beginning, because these have a subconscious influence on our biochemistry and trigger our bodies to react with hormones or other pheromones, </span>
  <em>
    <span>but,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and that is really important, it </span>
  <em>
    <span>does not</span>
  </em>
  <span> excuse any behaviour any of us show that makes another person uncomfortable.” Sam’s voice had a hard edge to it now, without being threatening. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are not animals. We are not so much slaves to our subconscious that we can use it to excuse our behaviour.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He said it with so much conviction Tony almost believed him. As Sam was a Dominant Switch, he had the potential to react to subs the same way a Dom would. That meant on the one hand, he basically told everyone trying to explain that the Dom couldn’t have helped himself to go fuck themselves - which was a good thing and Tony really wanted to drag him to one of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>how-to-behave-like-a-decent-human-being-seminars</span>
  </em>
  <span> SI forced all employees to attend once a year. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the other hand, he wasn’t a sub. He didn’t know how it was when the biology worked against you like that. Or how it felt when you were told it was your fault what the other person had done to you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As an example we could look at what’s happening biochemical wise with the three of us right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonathan stiffened again. Tony held him closer, making sure to hold him as tight as he could, without moving too much, trying to not draw more attention to it, even if he saw the way Sam noticed their behaviour.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right now, Tony, you are producing Subionyl, which triggers in Jonathan a reaction. As a sub who trusts you but not me, a potential danger, he seeks help and protection from you, because the Subionyl from you tells Jonathan that you are safe.” Sam was still smiling, but it didn’t feel like he was laughing at them. And that was good for the Switch, or Tony would have bit his head off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is also the reason why you, Tony, are reacting as protective as you do. Because, even if some people still believe that bullshit that only Doms are protective, subs are very much protective of their own, of children, and of other subs. And believe me, in a pinch, I wouldn’t want to piss off a sub protecting their own. And I don’t just mean Natasha.” He took another sip of his coffee and leaned back, as if to give them more space. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A stressed sub produces Helpyl and Stressnin.” He pressed a button on his Powerpoint showing the next page with a bunch of different names, Helpyl and Stressnin were the first ones written on it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Both tell other people that the sub is in distress and needs help. A healthy sub reacts like Tony reacts right now. He offers comfort by staying close and, if the distressed sub allows it, touch them. Touch is not only a physical reminder that they aren’t alone, and if held in an embrace, feel like they are protected, it also intensifies the production of hormones in their bodies.” Sam took another sip of his coffee, smiling at Tony, as if he was telling him all this and not Jonathan, who was still clinging to Tony and all but hiding his face in Tony’s side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Recue is something we can call the ‘safety-hormone’. It’s produced when subs feel safe, for example if they are close to other subs, especially if they trust them. If a sub feels stressed but is close to another sub, they will be able to produce Recue, which will help them relax again. The same happens with GRND42, although that is only produced if the sub has body contact with someone else. It’s the grounding hormone. In the combination with Recue and without stress and something called Oxytocin it makes the sub feel relaxed and grounded.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony swallowed heavily. He hadn’t known that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Generally speaking, all those hormones are produced more if the sub is with a Dom or a dominant Switch than with another sub. Although that hinges on whether or not the sub trusts the other person. In a pinch I’d always call for a sub or a submissive Switch to help a distressed sub. It will be a lot more effective and helpful than any Dom they don’t trust fully.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony swallowed again. What the fuck? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A healthy Dom reacts the same to a distressed sub. They will want to help them, offering comfort and touch. They should </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> presume that is what the sub wants, so they will </span>
  <em>
    <span>ask</span>
  </em>
  <span> whether it is okay for them to touch. If the sub declines, they should try to find someone the distressed sub trusts. Biochemically the Dom produces AffectinHOX. That hormone makes him want to help, comfort and protect the sub. If he can’t do anything like that and stays in the situation, he will get stressed himself. Which means,” and at that Sam leaned a little forward, the calm expression earnest, “the Dom will be fine if he leaves the situation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And if, say, a Dominant Switch is in a situation like that and can’t help?” Tony asked, because this was the situation they were in right now, weren’t they? Also, he had never seen a Dom that seemed to care not take action, not starting to give orders, most often sending others, especially other subs away, to </span>
  <em>
    <span>not stress them</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Same thing. What a lot of people don’t seem to understand is that it doesn’t mean the Dom needs to do anything. It’s of course more comforting for that Switch or Dom to actively do something, as their biology demands, but that doesn’t mean they have to. Especially if the distressed sub is being helped by someone else. It is enough to know or see that there is help and that the person isn’t suffering on their own. Even if it takes longer for said Dom or Switch to relax afterwards. But, and we will come back to this every time, no designation is a slave to their hormones without options. And even if we were, the second the other person shows us they don’t want something, the same biology should stop us from doing that exact thing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony stared at Sam. That… that actually made sense. Although if that was correct, there were like five healthy Doms out there, as far as he was concerned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Also, why hadn’t he ever been told this?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In summary: What you’re doing right now, Jonathan, is really healthy. Subs </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> the close proximity to other subs. Most often it’s the first thing abusers take away, because they want their partners to feel like they are fully dependent on them.” He leaned a little closer, his dark eyes on Jonathan, who was looking back at Sam as if finally something made sense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t need a Dom. It will make some things easier, for sure,</span>
  <span> like going into headspace, </span>
  <span>but you don’t need a Dom to help you through a drop. </span>
  <span>You don’t need a Dom to go into your headspace, even if that is healthier.</span>
  <span> You don’t need a Dom to feel whole.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonathan shuddered. Or maybe it was Tony. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Subs can help each other through drops and in their headspaces, they can balance each other out and they can help ground each other. It’s true, it’s easier with a Dom, but it’s not necessary.” Sam smiled, leaning back again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which doesn’t mean I hope you swear of Doms forever. There are good ones out there who will treat you like you deserve. With care and love and respect. It’s just that you don’t have to settle for anything less than that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony blinked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam let that sink in for a moment. As if he hadn’t just said the opposite of everything Tony had been forced to accept for all his life. (At least from officials. Rhodey and Pepper had said the same thing, but Tony had always thought they had said it because that was what you told a friend.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ty didn’t have to separate him from subs, Obadiah had done that already. Hell, his father had done that from the moment he had been born. He hadn’t even been allowed to spend much time with his mother! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If what Sam said was right, he really had been in distress most of his life, long before Ty came around and fucked him over for good. Hadn’t everyone told him he was high strung? That he needed someone to ground him? That he was needy and- But they had all meant he needed a Dom to </span>
  <em>
    <span>teach him how to behave</span>
  </em>
  <span>. They hadn’t meant he needed friends that were subs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>- This… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony blinked again, meeting Sam’s dark eyes. There was understanding in them, but no pity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was that the reason why he couldn’t stop himself from coming back? Why he let Clint touch him? Why he couldn’t say no to Jonthan when he asked for help?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t need to remember all the names.” Sam smiled, calmingly, almost cheekily. “There will be no test or anything. The only thing I hope for you to remember is that all of us always have options. And anyone who tells you otherwise is an asshole. Also, cuddle as much as you can, even without the added bonus of you being subs, cuddling is proven to reduce stress.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fucking hell. Tony felt as if he had been hit by a truck. Was this why Rhodey and Pepper had wanted to cuddle him non stop? They had stopped, of course, when he had told them to, hadn’t tried again when he had started to flinch away from their touches after Ty. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had known his father had been an asshole. That was nothing new to Tony but it seemed he had been even worse than he had thought. Because he had told Tony that he was needy and weak for wanting to be held. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony had known it was wrong to tell that to a three year old. But if Sam was right, it would have been wrong to say that to anyone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Especially to a sub, though. Sure, their second designation normally started to affect them at the end of puberty, so between sixteen for early birds and around twenty for late bloomers (and of course, Tony’s had been triggered by the death of his parents so he had been sixteen. If he believed Obadiah was that clever, he would think he had timed it like that just to fuck Tony over worse) so his father hadn’t technically abused him because he was a sub - just a human being and wasn’t that worse? - but he had taught him that wanting closeness to others was a weakness regardless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And if Sam was to be believed - and he did believe him - this meant… It meant Tony didn’t really have a chance, did he? Even before his second designation demanded the physical contact and closeness he had been taught to despise it. Sure, in MIT there hadn’t been many subs, but he had stayed away from those who had been there, too. As if he wanted to avoid being seen with them, wanting to prove to the Doms around him that he was strong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And all that had done was make him more vulnerable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No wonder his mother had been self-medicating. He almost laughed. Even after all these years, he still used that expression Jarvis had taught him. His mother had been a junky. He understood why she had done it. Understood that it was her only way of surviving her asshole of a husband. Still. It felt like she had abandoned him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apparently, she had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam told them more about hormones, like Hidon (a binding hormone that was produced during scenes they needed to get into headspace). Even though that was the part Tony should be listening to, because that was where Ty had fucked him over, he couldn’t. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His thoughts were racing. Why the fuck hadn’t he learned any of this earlier? Well, he had been homeschooled, before being sent to a prestige boarding school and then MIT, but why hadn’t he been told that in therapy at least?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was this why his medication didn’t really help? Why he still felt like he was getting worse? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Sam told them that was all for the day, he stood up, probably saying something to Sam, before ushering Jonathan out of the kitchen and upstairs. He didn’t remember what he told him, just that he needed to leave. That he needed to think. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He needed Pepper. He needed </span>
  <em>
    <span>Rhodey</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right now the world was too bright. Too loud. Too everything. It grated on his senses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He needed out. He needed </span>
  <em>
    <span>calm</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned on instinct, flinching back at the same time. It was Bucky, smiling at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it’s okay, Steve and I have a question about the other house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to come in?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nodded again. Even if he didn’t want- did he want that? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blinked. Bucky stood at the front stairs of the neighboring house, the one where most repairs were already done - because he had paid them double and extra.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky’s expression became slightly worried but before he could ask if Tony was okay, he forced himself to move. Forced himself to fucking hold himself together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Following the Dom inside the house felt wrong. But that was just because he was fucked up and emotional right now. He needed to get a fucking grip on himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Tony?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony blinked upwards to Bucky. He hadn’t heard what he had said. As they were standing in what had once been a kitchen, and he knew that they planned to make the break through to the kitchen he had been sitting in not ten minutes ago, he was almost certain, this was what they were talking about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean because of the break through?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was nothing more than a guess. He could barely concentrating on his own thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay, Mr. Stark?” Mr. Rogers looked at him, worry open in his expression. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony opened his mouth, but there was nothing. No remark. No scathing answer. So he nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to sit down?” Bucky asked, stepping closer, and Tony inhaled. He looked down at the outstretched hand. It didn’t touch him. Didn’t threaten him. It just was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And bound all of his attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Stark?” There was a question in Mr. Rogers’ voice that he needed to answer. That he had to answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But there were no words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony stumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hand caught him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking up into blue eyes, Tony exhaled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the world went quiet. Calm. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Warnings: mentioning of non graphic child abuse and the explanation of how abusers misuse their biology, short mentioning of Victim Blaming - Tony is really stressed during this.</p><p> </p><p>Sooo any ideas or theories?</p><p>Also if you wanna know more about the world, let me know! My biologist and I are thinking about posting all of her work (I helped a little) so that others can use it if they want :D</p><p>Stay safe, sane and optimistic, my lovelies</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Steve: Colonel Rhodes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Steve and Bucky workin the new house when they ask Tony to clarify somethings - and realize something is wrong.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WARNING in the End Notes! But I think it's not as bad as the last chapter!</p><p>If anyone asks, no, I do not have a life.</p><p>Thanks again to De_Marvel_Bunny and my biologist, who listen to my whining and help me so much!</p><p>Oh and I just saw, that, as of now, we're at 501 Kudos. Are you kidding me? THANK YOU!</p><p>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You’re sure we really can take out the whole wall?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve sighed. As he had told his boyfriend three times already: no, he wasn’t. Surprisingly, he hadn’t studied architecture in the last ten minutes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think so but we should ask Mr. Stark.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky turned to look at him. “What time is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glancing down at his wrist watch, Steve realized they had spent the better part of three hours already going through the house, planning what they wanted to do and in what way in the new Fortress. (The name wasn’t yet decided.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It would still take some time before they would be able to work on the third house, as there were still tenants living there, but it didn’t matter for now. The second house was big enough to give all of their clients enough room and with the new contracts of Bruce and May, they met the standard of personnel they needed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If someone had told Steve two weeks ago that all of the Avenger’s problems would be solved by going to see Mr. Stark, he wouldn’t have believed them. If they had told him he would fall for the man hook, line, and sinker, he would have laughed at them. Probably before trying to help them, because they had to be insane, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As it turned out: no. Of course, as soon as the money was spent they would have to be careful again and they would still be needing donations, but as soon as the licence was through, they would be able to officially register all of their clients. That wouldn’t be enough to cover all their costs, but it would at least cover most of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Almost half past eleven.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then let’s just ask him.” Bucky stepped past him, a sparkle in his eye that Steve understood, even if it wasn’t a good idea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We shouldn’t-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re just asking whether or not he has time to take a look, Stevie.” Bucky smiled back at him, relaxed and confident. Steve couldn’t help but smile back. Bucky had been his rock for all his life and he kept being it even now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he could say anything, probably to disagree because that was apparently what he did, Bucky stepped out of the front door, raising an arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The happiness and enthusiasm was clear to hear in his voice and Steve would have teased him about it mercilessly, if he didn’t know he sounded the same. And if he didn’t fear they might overstep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stepping half behind Bucky he saw Mr. Stark flinching while he turned, his expression almost blank. He seemed to be a little paler than normally, the fingers of his left hand tapping a rhythm on his leg while he looked back at Bucky. His eyes hidden behind colored shades, as they normally were. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it’s okay, Steve and I have a question about the other house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nodded, almost mechanically. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something was wrong. But before he could stop Bucky, his lover had already asked the other man if he wanted to come in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They'd had another talk last night, Bucky saying they had to let Tony- Mr. Stark make his own decisions. He was right, of course. Steve knew that. But then he stood in front of the smaller man with the fierce eyes and his shoulders so tense, they were in danger of breaking and he just couldn’t stop himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark didn’t seem to know what to do with himself half of the time, pushing and pushing himself to appear as if he was alright, when he clearly wasn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve just wanted to help him. He just wanted to tell him he didn’t need to push himself so far. He was so strong for what he had done and he was still fighting. (And if he was honest, he wanted to wrap him into a warm blanket burrito, feed him chocolate and cuddle him until he was relaxed. Until the empty expression left his face.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took a little longer for Mr. Stark to react this time before he nodded, again. This time it looked even shakier. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky glanced backwards to Steve, his expression worried, when Mr. Stark blinked twice, before walking over to them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It has time, Tony, we don’t-” Bucky started, but Mr. Stark didn’t react to it, just kept walking closer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not to crowd him, Steve stepped back, hearing Bucky following inside the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We were talking about how much of the wall we could remove without endangering the whole structure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the other man didn’t give his opinion, which he normally did without a prompt, Bucky glanced again at Steve. On his expression was the same worry mirrored that he felt rumoring in his gut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something was definitely wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay, Tony?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark blinked again, before looking up at Bucky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Forcing himself to not walk over and take the colored glasses of his face to be able to see his eyes, Steve kept close watch. That was probably the only reason he saw the small tremor run through the smaller man’s frame. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean because of the break through?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve bit down on his lip. Fudge. If he didn’t know better, he’d say Tony was shutting down, a normal psychological reaction for every human, but especially abused subs, when they were overloaded with too much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that couldn’t be right. Sam would have seen the early signs and gotten Nat or Clint to handle it. He would have never let Mr. Stark walk out like that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Forcing himself to stay exactly where he was, he breathed in carefully. Paying attention to sound as unthreatening and normal as possible he repeated Bucky’s question again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay, Mr. Stark?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked over to him and for a moment Steve thought, Mr. Stark hadn’t even known that he had been there. Oh fudge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took too long for the sub to open his mouth to answer. That nothing came out had all of Steve’s alarm bells ring in a panic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After almost a minute Mr. Stark closed his mouth, nodding, almost sluggishly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced towards Bucky, who had a professional calm expression on his face, even if his eyes screamed panic. Even if it should be ridiculous. They knew how to handle a sub that was shutting down. They knew how to handle a sub in a crash and in a drop. It was always stressful, but Steve had never felt panic like this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And judging by his partner’s eyes, neither had Bucky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to sit down?” Bucky asked, calmly, friendly, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. As if Steve didn’t see blinding panic in his blue eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took a step closer, holding out his hand without touching or crowding Mr. Stark. Offering help if he wanted it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark inhaled, looking down on the hand. And kept looking, as if all his attention and incredible intellect was bound by the unmoving hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shit. He meant- no, actually Steve meant </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Mr. Stark was still not comfortable enough with them to crash anytime soon, and if the bags under his eyes were any indicator, his body didn’t have the energy to spare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What should they do? Not that they weren’t trained for this, he knew what they needed to do. But, somehow, it didn’t feel like this would work here. Not that it wouldn’t help Mr. Stark. It would. Most likely. But it felt like it wouldn’t work for Steve this time. Not that that mattered even in the slightest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Stark?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man looked up at him, every movement slow and almost uncoordinated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A flicker flashed over his expression, too fast gone for Steve to interpret. Then Mr. Stark stumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky caught him on instinct, grabbing Mr. Stark’s arm to stabilize him. As Mr. Stark stumbled forward in the same movement, he now leaned against Bucky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>From where he stood Steve could see the way Bucky’s body relaxed before all his muscles tensed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking up from Tony, who had gone motionless, Bucky met Steve’s eyes. The panic overshadowed everything else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve let a shuddering breath escape his lips. Shit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky, probably on instinct, put his other arm around the sub, holding him close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which the sub needed. Steve could explain the science behind it. But it was almost hidden behind white noise. All he wanted to do was walk over there and take them both into his arms. Calm his lover and make sure To-Mr. Stark… Tony was warm, protected, and safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was almost like a spell, forcing him to walk closer. To step behind Tony and make sure he was protected from all sides. He wanted to keep the smaller body close, to make sure he would feel warm and safe when he came back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he wouldn’t. Mr. Stark wasn’t theirs. He didn’t even trust them yet! And if they didn’t get their </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit</span>
  </em>
  <span> together right now, he never would. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fudge, if they didn’t get their shit together right now and did what was right for him, he shouldn’t trust them. Heck, they would never trust themselves again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Forcing himself to take the first step, Steve moved closer to them, just because the door was behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, I'll get Clint.” He put as much calm into his voice as he could, because Bucky was close to freaking out. And the last thing they needed right now was Bucky worrying Tony to trigger a crash.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony trusted Clint. He would be able to calm him if he came back, and he would also be able to help him through a crash. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve took another step closer to them and the urge to step towards them and calm them both got stronger. As did his need to go to his distressed lover. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Balling his fists, he forced himself to keep walking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I'll be right back. You got this, Buck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced back when Bucky didn’t answer, to see him look down on Tony, who was still standing motionless in his arms, a frown forming on his expression. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moving as noiselessly as he could, Steve walked faster, changing to running as soon as he hit the front door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t really do much, as he just ran three steps down and the next up again. Pressing the doorbell, he forced himself to calm down. One of the most important rules for the Avengers was that they could </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> induce a panic. So he had to be as calm as possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When it took Sam and Clint more than thirty seconds, something that was absolutely okay seeing as they had to do more than just stand behind the door, Steve thought about throwing caution to the wind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The minute it needed in the end for Clint to open the door felt longer than almost anything Steve had endured before. Kneeling beside Bucky with his almost ripped off arm, trying to stop the bleeding, had been worse. But aside from that he didn’t remember anything that was worse than waiting until he could get help to Bucky and Tony.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony’s crashing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been supposed to be a simple sentence. What came out was a panicked garble, dripping with fear and helplessness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint, one of the most clear-headed people in any crisis, didn’t ask anything more. He knew Bucky and Steve had started to work in the other house. Pushing past Steve, he used his acrobatic skills to propel himself from the one stairs to the other, landing too hard, but not even blinking before he ran into the entry hall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve was hot on his heels, following him in jumping from the one stairs to the other, almost missing the grip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rushing into the room that was supposed to become their joined kitchen, he watched as Clint took Tony, who was shivering violently by now, out of Bucky’s arm, backing up with the almost motionless man, backwards to the wall, where he let them both sink to the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony, seemingly unaware, moved closer to Clint, wrapping his arms tightly around the other sub. Clint, his expression fierce and stormy, started to murmur soothingly to the other man, enclosing him in a tight hug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only reason Steve was able to look away from the shivering man burrowing closer to his friend, was his lover, almost silently whimpering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stepping closer to him, Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky, pressing himself to the other Dom. He was shivering too, his hands clutching at Steve, the robotic one almost hard enough to hurt. Not that Steve would even realize that right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve…” It wasn’t more than a pained whisper, but it almost ripped Steve’s heart in two to hear his love being this torn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay.” He murmured back, pressing a reassuring kiss to his cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need blankets.” Clint’s voice was calm and warm but his eyes were hard when Steve looked at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blinking, he stopped himself- it didn’t matter what he was feeling, he needed to get Bucky out of here, bring Clint- no let Nat bring Clint blankets and calm Bucky down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was literally no reason at all for him to stay here. There was no reason at all for him to want to stay. What Tony needed right now was calm and quiet, someone he trusted and not some Dom standing awkwardly in the corner, just because he felt like he needed to help.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on.” Moving Bucky was difficult. He didn’t actually work against Steve, knowing as well as him that they needed to get out for Tony. But he didn’t help either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turning back, his lover looked at Tony, still shivering visibly and by now whimpering heartbreakingly, even if almost noiselessly, into Clint’s side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky reached out to Tony, not taking a step closer, which was probably good for all of them judging by the stare Clint threw them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taking his lover’s hand, he led him out of the apartment and into the hall, focusing all of his brain power on his lover and nothing else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay?” It was a stupid question, as Bucky was everything but okay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moving closer to place his head on Steve’s shoulder he exhaled, not saying anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hugging him close, Steve pressed his cheek to Bucky's hair, waiting. Yes, Tony needed blankets, but right now, Bucky needed him more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve stayed close, rubbing circles on the other Dom’s back, breathing calmly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took Bucky a few moments to calm down enough to get a grip on himself. Until his shivers stopped and his pulse quietened a little. When he moved back and looked up at Steve, his clear blue eyes were calmer, the pain and worry not as all-consuming. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He reached up with his flesh hand, rubbing his thumb under Steve’s eye, not commenting on the wetness he found there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve didn’t answer either. They wouldn’t be okay until they knew Tony was fine. Not that they had a right to want to know that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was normal, to a degree, for a Dom to want to know a sub was fine after seeing them in distress. The way his heart hurt, his lungs needed to be forced to breathe normally and the demand of his brain, that they should know better, should go back to the hurting sub, because Tony wouldn’t be able to calm without Steve and Bucky there? That wasn’t normal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried to smile down at Bucky and failed miserably.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moving closer, Bucky pressed a kiss to his lips. “Let’s get some blankets.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve nodded, inhaling deeply as he was tugged forward by Bucky’s hand that was still holding onto his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were already on the other stairs when a black Audi stopped right before them, the driver, a black Dom glaring at them dangerously. The other Dom was wearing casual clothes, but that didn’t fool them. He was or had been military. Which made him potentially an actual threat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Getting out of the car, the other Dom kept his glare on Bucky and Steve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Letting go of each other, Steve stepped down, to meet the Dom head-on, while Bucky moved back, positioning himself in front of the door, while simultaneously sending a text to Nat and Sam. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve didn’t look back to confirm that. He knew. They had this routine down pat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I help you?” Even if his voice was still pleasant, there was a clear edge to it. A warning most people wouldn’t ignore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get me to Tony </span>
  <em>
    <span>right the fuck now</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve stiffened. Not only because the other’s voice was quiet, something most Doms didn’t manage when coming here seething, but also because of the way absolute hatred barbed his words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other reason was the high spiking fear that flashed through him like lightning. They didn’t have a Tony with them which could only mean this Dom was looking for Mr. Stark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There is no Tony living here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Bring me to him</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” The other Dom stared up at Steve, his muscles tense, his eyes burning with fury, but aside from that, he almost seemed calm. His voice was still quiet enough that Bucky probably couldn’t hear him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you Colonel Rhodes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve didn’t move, even when he heard Bucky moving closer, which shouldn’t happen right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dark eyes flashed over to Bucky. “Yes. Where is Tony?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Steve could do anything, he felt Bucky’s hand on his shoulder, pressing down reassuringly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is crashing, I know, </span>
  <em>
    <span>where is he?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He took a step closer, his voice promising he would kill them both if he had to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A friend is taking care of him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dark eyes bore into Steve. There was a twitch in one of his eyes, as if he was about to snap any second now. “Can’t be as I’m still talking to </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Where is he</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clint-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Colonel snapped. Grabbing Steve by his collar, he stepped even closer, the fury radiating off of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t give a single </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The only reason I’m not killing you right now is that Jarvis swore you didn’t do anything to him. Get me to him </span>
  <em>
    <span>right now</span>
  </em>
  <span> or I won’t care any longer that we’re in front of a safe space for subs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve had to take a deep breath, focussing on Bucky’s grounding touch. Because right now, all he wanted was to attack the other Dom and make sure that Bucky, the subs and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tony</span>
  </em>
  <span> were safe from him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Colonel, are you-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Now</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking back into those eyes, Steve knew that the Colonel wouldn't hesitate much longer. There was a good chance he and Bucky could take him, if he didn’t have any weapons with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rationally speaking he knew he couldn’t stop the other Dom to see Tony. Mr. Stark wasn’t one of their clients. He hadn’t asked them to stop anyone from getting to him. He wasn’t in a protected space. And if he really was the friend who had supported him through his trial, he probably was someone Mr. Stark trusted, so he would probably be able to help him even better than Clint. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything else in him </span>
  <em>
    <span>screamed </span>
  </em>
  <span>to keep Tony safe from this aggressive Dom, who, in the worst case, could potentially be an abuser to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Try to calm down some.” Bucky said from behind him, his grip had now a bruising force.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve wasn’t sure whether he meant the Colonel or Steve, or maybe all of them, but he inhaled deeply, forcing his body to relax, opening his cramped hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Colonel took a step back, blanking his expression. “I’ll be calm as soon as I see Tony.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just so you know, if Tony doesn’t want to come with you, we will not let you take him.” Bucky’s voice before had been tense but friendly enough. This had been a cutthroat threat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other Dom almost growled, pressing his lips together, before smiling in a much too smug way. “No problem. Just so </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>know. If he tells me that any of you did anything to him, anything at all, Pepper and I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>destroy you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holding onto his forced calm with everything he had, he glanced back at Bucky. He would send a text to Nat and Sam, informing them what was going on, although they were probably watching them through the camera Tony had installed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking back to the Colonel, Steve stepped around him, instantly missing Bucky’s touch, even if he knew he would watch his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Readying himself to stop the Colonel the second he needed to, Steve led him into the other house, making his steps audible when he entered the empty apartment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clint, can we come in? Colonel Rhodes is with us.” His voice was loud enough to be heard, calm and almost pleasant. Because the last thing he wanted was to scare Tony right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Colonel took a step forward but stopped when Steve held an arm out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come in, but slowly and </span>
  <em>
    <span>calmly</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve looked back at the other Dom who just raised an eyebrow, a challenge in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glancing at Bucky, who nodded, Steve stepped forward, his muscles already tensing again. There was no question in his mind what he would do if the Dom would try to touch Tony without his explicit permission. And even if the worry and anger behind it might be different, this he had done often before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony was still huddled in Clint’s side, shivering. The second they stepped into the room he flinched, whimpering, before he turned in the other sub’s arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint must have taken the glasses of his face, as his unshielded brown eyes looked at them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, not at them. The brown eyes, clouded and desperate focussed on the other Dom, reaching a hand out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rhodey…” Tony whimpered and the other Dom moved forward like a flash.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, Tones.” He was already kneeling on the dirty floor, his hands outstretched, but not grabbing Tony, as Steve wanted to do. And he was sure that had nothing to do with the way Clint glared at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re safe, I’m here, Tones. You’re going to be okay.” The Colonel’s voice was barely recognizable when he spoke to Tony. It was warm, full of love and calm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony moved forward, touching the Colonel’s arm, another violent shiver running through his body, as he let himself fall into the other Dom’s arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blinking, Steve met Clint’s eyes. He was still holding onto Tony, even while the Colonel, kneeling before him, hugged Tony close to his chest, accepting it when the distressed sub pressed his face into his chest and his arms grabbed him even tighter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m here, Tones.” It was almost too quiet to hear as the other Dom whispered it into Tony's dark locks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The whimpers stopped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony was still shivering, and as far gone as he was, he would probably fully crash soon, but it was obvious that he felt safe with the other Dom. Which was good. Very good. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even if it hurt. Even if Steve had trouble breathing, if everything aside from his rationality demanded to go over there and take Tony from him. To keep Tony safe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Tony clearly wanted to be with the other Dom, Steve pushed down on that need. He had no right whatsoever to want any of that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glancing towards Bucky, he saw the same struggle in his lover’s eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll take you home, Tones, don’t worry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That made everything exponentially worse. Judging by the gasp from Bucky, he thought the same thing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll come with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Colonel looked up to Clint, opening his mouth, most likely to tell the sub in very clear words that he wouldn’t, but Clint didn’t care at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t keep holding him and drive. I’ll drive. And also, I need to know he is safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glaring at Clint, the other Dom nodded. His expression was careful and suspicious but not as threatening as it had been when he had looked at Bucky or Steve. That could be because Clint was a sub, but Steve didn’t think so. It had probably more to do with the fact that Tony accepted his touch. The whole time he had been clutching at the Colonel, he hadn’t moved away from Clint. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking over the Colonel’s shoulder, Clint met Bucky’s gaze. “Get us a blanket, Buck.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t a suggestion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky stiffened. Still, he nodded and left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve just stayed where he was, watching how Tony… no. Mr. Stark. He was Mr. Stark to Steve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched as Mr. Stark shivered in the arms of one of his closest friends, if his memory served him right. Now, without the added adrenaline of a possible fight, he recognized the other man from the photographs. He and Miss Potts had been by Tony’s side in most of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thing that actually calmed him though was the way Tony- no. Mr. Stark. What calmed him a little, or at least enough to stay back, was the way Mr. Stark held onto the other man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark trusted him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other reason was that Clint would go with them and once inside, the Colonel wouldn’t be able to get rid of him. The only reason he would leave was that Tony was fine or asked him to leave. Which Tony hopefully wouldn’t do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought alone hurt almost as much as the idea of letting him leave with someone he didn’t know. Heck, it hurt to stand back and see him suffer while there was nothing Steve could do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he heard footsteps, he turned and saw Nat coming closer, two blankets in her arms. As Bucky wasn’t with her, she had probably told him to stay back. Bucky wouldn’t have liked that. That he had actually listened said a lot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Colonel Rhodes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Dom turned, meeting Natasha’s eyes. “Miss Romanov.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t stop, walking over to him, giving Clint the blankets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you came to help Tony. It’s good he called you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve blinked. He hadn’t, had he? Mr. Stark hadn’t been on the phone when they had seen him. He could have just gotten off the phone, but judging by the way he had acted, he didn't think so. Which reminded him, how the fudge had the other Dom known what had happened? Had Mr. Stark been able to send a text to him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Colonel smiled at her, not answering while he helped Clint cover To- Mr. Stark inside the blankets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Tones, we’re going to the car now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Stark mumbled something and Steve had to bite down hard on his lips when he saw the other Dom press a kiss to his head, promising the sub he wouldn’t let go of him and that he wasn’t alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t been alone. They had been there. Clint had been there. Not that he would say that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint and Nat helped the Colonel into the backseat and to arrange Tony on him, buckling them in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll call.” Clint promised, before getting into the driver seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Nat stepped beside him, her small hand grabbing his in an almost bruising way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint nodded once, before closing the door and driving off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve couldn’t do anything more than look after them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lock the door, Steve.” Nat nodded back to the other house. “Sam thinks he knows what happened.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inhaling the cold Winter air, Steve closed his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam had given To- Mr. Stark the biology lesson and hadn’t seen how that had affected Mr. Stark. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Bucky and he had called him into the other house where he had been alone with two Doms he didn’t trust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve knew what had happened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had fucked up.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Warning: Short mention of Bucky losing his arm; Tony crashes, it’s not a panic attack but too close to not write a warning here. If you have questions about anything else, drop a comment!</p><p>Thank you for all your comments! They motivate me like crazy!</p><p>Stay safe, sane and optimistic, my lovelies!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Tony: Whoopsie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tony wakes up the next morning and has to reflect on some things. Also cuddles and hot chocolate!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey my lovelies, </p><p>As always: thank you to De_Marvel_Bunny and my biologist for their amazing help! </p><p>WARNING: short description of panic attack symptoms </p><p>Enjoy :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tony woke up warm.</p><p>
  <span>Blinking, he looked up to the ceiling, realizing three things all at once - not that that was something unusual for him or his fucking brain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Firstly, he wasn’t alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Secondly, Jarvis used the ceiling screen right now that he had called </span>
  <em>
    <span>useless</span>
  </em>
  <span> when Tony had installed it during a caffeine-induced binge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thirdly, he remembered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>First things first: He didn’t wake up alone, which didn’t happen all that often now. Actually, it only happened when Rhodey stayed over (not even Pepper stayed in bed with him). But today it wasn’t only his Honeybear - which was also the second thing, as it was what Jarvis warned him about with the text blinking on the screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint was here. (That was also partly the third thing, but Tony would try to ignore that fact as long as he could, thank you.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sooo… he was laying in bed, on his back, wrapped so tightly in a blanket he was sure he wouldn’t be able to wriggle himself out, staring up at the ceiling where his AI tried to be silently soothing - which didn’t work that well - while Rhodey was hugging him from the right and Clint, someone he barely knew, lay on his left, snuggling up to him like a cat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What the fuck. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Your heart rate is increasing, Sir</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the screen above him displayed after erasing the earlier message that he was in the Tower and safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was able to move enough to glare up at the corner where he had installed Jarvis’ camera. Really? His heart rate was increasing? As if he didn’t feel that. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I was not certain if you wished Mr. Barton to know about me, so I did not reveal myself.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nodded. Even though he liked Clint - and wasn’t freaking out that he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>cuddling him</span>
  </em>
  <span>… a fact that did freak him out because why wasn’t he freaking out? He didn’t even know Clint! - definitely not enough to trust him with Jarvis. Hell, no one knew about Jarvis aside from Rhodey and Pepper. He didn’t even tell Obadiah and Ty about him when he was lowest. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I watched him carefully. His only wish seems to be to make sure that you are safe and being taken care of.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony tried not to react to that. It’s what Clint had told Rhodey yesterday over and over again. And judging by what he remembered (way too much) he seemed to actually mean that. Still, being careful wasn’t a bad idea - a lesson Tony had finally learned it seemed. (If you ignored the last three weeks - and the fact that he liked the Avengers and spent time with them and- yep. Let’s just ignore all of that.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the topic of things to ignore: everything that happened yesterday after the biology lesson (if he ever was able to go back there and look any of them in the eyes, he would ask them to give that lesson to all and everyone, though). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Surprisingly enough, even after embarrassing himself, Tony was thankful to have been to the biology lesson. He had been able to help Jonathan - hopefully, he hadn’t talked with the kid afterwards, too freaked out already - and had learned something that finally made sense. He had learned early on that knowledge always had a price. Sure, he would have liked to not break down in front of all of them, but then again, when had anything ever been easy for him? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least his fail safes had worked, Jarvis calling Rhodey the second he realized Tony was going to have a panic attack or crash and leading him to Tony. Of course, Tony hadn’t been able to hold on long enough to spare himself the embarrassment. Of fucking course not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Breathing in calmly - he didn’t want to wake either of the most likely very tired men - he closed his eyes. Get this shit over with. What did he remember from yesterday?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remembered stumbling and being held by Bucky. He remembered feeling safe in the Dom’s arms. Like it was right. Like he would protect him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thinking about it now, safe at home, having Rhodey right beside him, was enough to almost make him panic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Breathe in 1 - 2 - 3. Hold 1 - 2. Out 1 - 2 - 3 - 4.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took him some minutes, but as he was able to calm himself, and neither of the other men woke up (even if they both snuggled closer, holding him tight from both sides) he took it as a win. If he didn’t, he would never win. Silver linings. Silver linings everywhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t open his eyes, knowing full well that Jarvis would either show him his breathing exercise or praise for doing it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, he had felt safe when Bucky held him. That wasn’t a big deal, right? Sure, he hadn’t trusted a Dom aside from Rhodey and Pepper since… well, for a long time. But it wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he did panic (even if only a little) after his brain kicked in. But before his brain had woken up enough to tell him that something was wrong, he had let the Dom hold him. And he had felt safe. After what he knew Doms could do. Sure, he could tell himself that he had vetted Bucky. He worked for a safe space for subs. Logically, it - probably - made sense to trust him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But logic, as Tony had learned the hard way, could kiss his ass when it came to well earned panic. So… what the fuck?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What the actual fuck?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hell, Mr. Rogers had been in the same room, a second Dom, and even when he had come closer, Tony had barely reacted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In 1 - 2 - 3. Hold 1 - 2. Out 1 - 2 - 3 - 4. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could do this without freaking out. He had freaked yesterday. That was fucking enough. (It had to be. There was just no way he would be able to handle a second crash right now. Hell, even a tiny panic attack would probably end him right now - or at least Rhodey would think so and try to save his life by submitting him to a hospital. Which was the second last thing where Tony wanted to be.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In 1 - 2 - 3. Hold 1 - 2. Out 1 - 2 - 3 - 4.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Steve had left. And Tony had been alone with Bucky. Who had held him close still. Aside from that, he had done nothing aside from promising that everything would be fine. That Steve would get Clint. That Tony was safe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t remember the moment he had started shivering. Either it hadn’t been that long or he had lost time, but the next thing he remembered was Clint, grabbing him, taking him into his arm and sitting down with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With the information from the biology lesson Tony could interpret why he had reacted to Clint like he had. Even if he barely understood it. But it was true that he had felt safe in the other sub’s arms. More so than with Bucky? It had to be, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it had felt good, calming almost, to be held tight by the other man. And he had known that he wouldn’t do to him what Ty had done. That at least had been something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t remember anything between being held close by Clint and Rhodey entering the room. Suddenly his Honeybear had been there, not touching him but promising that he was there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony was pretty sure he had sobbed while throwing himself into the Dom’s arms. But he would try to ignore that and he was absolutely brilliant at ignoring stuff like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Being held close by his best friend, his constant for more than ten years now, had been enough to calm him a little. He had pressed his face into Rhodey’s chest until all he could smell was the other man who he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> would fight heaven and hell and keep him safe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apparently he hadn’t moved away from Clint. A further interpretation of that would follow later. Or never. Never worked for Tony. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But because of it, Rhodey had let him help bundle Tony up, and had let him drive them home, where the other sub had point blank refused to leave, telling Rhodey that he still could be useful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony remembered that, even though by then, he had been close to a panic attack, or at least he had been at that stage of the crash. Was it worrying that he could, by now, distinguish between crash symptoms and panic attack symptoms even though they were basically the same thing? Probably.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jarvis must have informed Rhodey that Clint had been helpful and nice ever since they had met, probably giving him a run down of their investigation on him. It was the only logical reason why he hadn’t shot the other sub. Especially when he had demanded to stay close and in Tony’s home while Tony was crashing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which in that moment had meant gasping for air, while it felt like his heart was trying to rip itself in two to beat faster and to escape the non existing weight pressing down on his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It could have been worse though, because Rhodey had been there. Holding him. Guiding him through his breathing exercise. Holding him close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That Clint had been there should have made it so much worse. It hadn’t. Tony wouldn’t go so far as to be thankful that the other sub had been there… but he had been there. He had stayed close, even when Rhodey had growled at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had touched Tony, carefully at first and when Tony - inexplicably - had pressed into the touch, he had wrapped himself around Tony, not challenging Rhodey’s hold on him, just adding to it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhodey had allowed it. After letting him into Tony’s apartment - which no one beside him, Pepper, and Jenna, his trusted cleaning lady, were allowed to enter - he had allowed the other sub to touch him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had allowed it when Clint had started to calm him down. When he had tried to guide Tony in a headspace. Hell, he had even helped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony knew the science behind it, knew that his body </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to settle down after a crash. Still, the only reason why he didn’t feel incredibly betrayed and just mildly annoyed was the fact that Clint had done it so gently, not forcing Tony in the slightest, just offering warmth and praise and safety. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that Rhodey had knocked him out with the DropStop before he could actually drop. As he had been almost calm, even if pretty out of it at that point, he remembered the fight almost word for word - probably.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After guiding Tony in the beginnings of a headspace, Rhodey had gotten up from the couch, where they had bundled him up. Clint, not saying a word, had almost laid down on him, to keep him warm and comfortable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Help him sit up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint had, holding Tony comfortably against his own chest. A position Tony would have freaked out immediately if he had been any clearer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhodey had sat down on the couch table, a glass of water and a pill in his hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint, watching carefully, had stiffened, clutching Tony more tightly to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is that?” The sub’s voice had still been pleasant, calm and warm, but Tony would have bet his whole fortune that it had been for his benefit and that the Avenger had most likely glared daggers at Rhodey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Dom had looked over Tony’s shoulder, his voice calm and warm, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is not his first crash.” Rhodey had moved closer, reaching out to Tony to place the pill in his mouth. Tony knew the process and he wholeheartedly agreed. Then and now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint had grabbed him more securely, moving Tony just a little, but enough to get between the Dom and Tony.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t give him that shit!” His voice, although still calm, had been harder, stirring something in Tony, that had already been rearing its ugly head, because after Ty, subspace wasn’t a safe space anymore. It meant pain and blood and fear. It meant agony and broken bones and unspeakable horror. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony will drop, he always does, and right now he can’t handle a drop on top of the crash.” The Dom’s voice had a commanding ring to it that, even though Tony </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> Rhodey would never hurt him, triggered panic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Clint could say anything, he had spasmend. From that point on his memory got more hazy. He was sure he must have whimpered. He always did, even if almost noiselessly, but Clint had been close enough to hear him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhodey must have convinced Clint that giving Tony the DropStop was the only way, because the sub had held him, whispering reassurances to him, while Rhodey had given him the drug, begging Tony to swallow it and the water. Because he didn’t want to use his Dom voice on Tony. Even if he would, if it was the only way to help him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the drug worked fast - thankfully - Tony didn’t remember much more. But guessing by the surrounding evidence, Rhodey and Clint had gotten Tony to bed, the Dom hadn’t been able to get rid of the sub and both had fallen asleep beside him, probably after hours of careful monitoring that Tony didn’t die… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whoopsie.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So… there was a good chance Rhodey would lock him into the Tower Rapunzel style. Hell, Pepper wasn’t as lenient, she would definitely ground him (and no, Tony had no idea how it was possible that his assistant would be able to do that. But she could and she would).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Breathing calmly - because what other choice did he have? - Tony focused on everything else but the lingering threats of panic still messing up his brain. Or the embarrassment weighing him down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Distraction. He needed a distraction. Glancing to Clint, he thought about waking the other sub. What was he doing here? Sure, there was the chance he liked Tony (unlikely, but possible) and he really did want to make sure Tony was safe, but as soon as Rhodey had been there he had been safe and Clint wouldn’t have had to take care of Tony anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Granted, it had been great that he had driven them home so that Tony didn’t have to separate from Rhodey, but after that? Clint had better things to do than watch a fuck-up being knocked out by illegal drugs (no that was wrong. The drug in and of itself wasn’t illegal - just that he had it at home, as it was only allowed to be given by medical professionals in a hospital. Oh well.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of the better things to do for someone working for a fucking safe space for subs would be to file charges against them for example. Or driving back to the Avengers and make sure that Tony didn’t have that much of a bad influence on their clients.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that he would </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> advise anyone to do to themselves what Tony did. By now he was actually on the best way to fully get clean, and he didn’t take anything that wasn’t prescribed to him. Aside from the DropStop he had for such lovely occassiances just like yesterday. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It stopped him from experiencing a drop which, to Tony, was worth all the side effects. But if, say, Jonathan would ask him to provide him with the drug? Tony would most likely decline… would he? He should, that was for sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In 1 - 2 - 3. Hold 1 - 2. Out 1 - 2 - 3 - 4. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking back at the ceiling, he closed his eyes again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In 1 - 2 - 3. Hold 1 - 2. Out 1 - 2 - 3 - 4. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...good…”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An uncoordinated hand patted half oh his face, as Clint stretched his arms out beside him, yawning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony couldn’t help himself. He grinned. How could he not? The whole situation was </span>
  <em>
    <span>ridiculous.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“...breathing is good.” Clint murmured, cuddling closer again, seemingly uncaring for the fact that they didn’t know each other all that well, that Tony wasn’t Clint’s problem and that the rest of the Avengers would probably actually fire him this time. Judging by the time (08:07 by now - or at least it had been the last time Jarvis had showed him the time a few minutes ago), Clint had missed not only most of his shift yesterday, but was also already late for the one today.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clint-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sleeping.” He murmured, even if his voice sounded a lot more awake than just a moment ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish you were.” Rhodey grumbled from his other side, pressing his face into Tony’s shoulder, or at least he guessed he did that, because of the blanket burrito, he didn’t actually feel it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are you feeling, Tones?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had a deal. Rhodey only asked this question when he really needed to hear an answer to it and Tony answered him honestly. They had struck that deal years ago but it was still valid enough for Tony to bite back on all the mean comments that sprang to mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better than expected.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tones.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like a truck hit me twice.” He sighed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is better than expected.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See, I told you, but you-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better be nice, Tones, or I’ll just let you rot in those blankets before calling Pepper.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint stiffened beside him, so much in fact, that Tony felt it through the layers of blankets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You love me too much.” He put more humor in his voice when he normally would have but the last thing he needed right now was Clint fighting Rhodey over a joke. Because that was all it was. And it was good. Rhodey hadn’t stopped joking with him, hadn’t stopped making fun of him like he had </span>
  <em>
    <span>before</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Tony knew that Rhodey would </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> leave him in a position where he felt trapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t count on it, asshole. What were you thinking hiding your little side project from Pepper and me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah. Yeah, Tony had hoped to ignore that topic for a little longer, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That both of you have more than enough to do? I just helped a little with-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clint says you have been over almost every other day for the past two weeks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Traitor.” Tony hissed at the other sub, being careful to keep his voice from trembling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry.” Clint smiled up at him, very much unapologetic, even if there was some tenseness in his expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever. Can someone un-burrito me so that I can take a leak?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only if you’ll eat breakfast afterwards without whining.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony sighed. He wouldn’t get out of that one even if he decided his bladder would be able to hold on longer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A hot cocoa and coffee.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The big mug with hot cocoa and either cereal or bagels.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I'll give you the big mug with cocoa and donuts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Deal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I have donuts, too?” Clint asked, pouting obnoxiously at Rhodey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Christ.” The Dom pushed himself up before starting to unwrap Tony. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as the last layer of the blanket was removed and the cold air hit him, Tony started shivering. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on.” Rhodey didn’t hesitate in dragging him out of bed and towards the bathroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking back, Tony saw that Clint had sat up, looking worried. It took him a moment to realize why.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay.” He forced a smile on his lips which was a lot easier than he had feared. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he could say anything more, Rhodey had dragged him into the bathroom and closed the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jarvis, keep a close eye on him.” The Dom whispered, a frown on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, Colonel. I also took the liberty to order breakfast.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Jay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Always a pleasure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While conspiring against Tony with his very own AI, Rhodey had pushed him towards the toilet, his cellphone in one hand, typing furiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony didn’t care much. The only time he had been uneasy to undress in front of Rhodey (or vice versa) had been after he had been released from the hospital - and that had nothing to do with Rhodey. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After relieving himself, he took a shower, not commenting on the way Rhodey’s eyes wandered over his body as if to look for bruises or any signs that someone had hurt him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They hadn’t. Hell, they couldn’t have known what that little info would do to Tony. Or that they had picked the worst time in the year. And as soon as they had realized what was going on, Bucky and Mr. Rogers had done what they could to help. It wasn’t their fault Tony was messed up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hell, they had even reacted exactly like Sam had said good Doms should react. Not forcing Tony to do anything and instead looking for a sub that could help him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stepping out of the shower, Rhodey wrapped him in a giant warm towel, before stepping into the shower himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He toweled himself dry, brushed his teeth and hair and put on some clothes and was out the bathroom door before Rhodey even stepped out of the shower.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint sat on the edge of the bed, looking up worriedly at Tony, even if it was clear he wanted to appear relaxed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure.” Because even if Tony wasn’t fine, it had nothing to do with Rhodey. Never.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wanna take a shower?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony didn’t even let him finish. Grabbing some pairs of jeans and a shirt that would hopefully fit the other sub, he pushed him out of his bedroom and into the guestroom that wasn’t Pepper’s. He didn’t even know why he still called it a guest room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony stopped at the tone, looking up into the green eyes of the other sub.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The way he asked it made it sure he didn’t mean his overall situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rhodey is my brother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That doesn’t have to mean anything necessarily.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nodded. He was right. And the weight behind those words hinted at Clint’s backstory - which Tony knew only a little about, but enough to know there was a reason he worked at a safe space for subs. Aside from the fact he seemed to be a good person.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He would never hurt me. He almost lost </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything </span>
  </em>
  <span>when he and Pepper got me out.” When they went against his contract, against Tiberius Stone and Obadiah Stane. Pepper got fired and Rhodey had probably only kept his position because when the army found out what he did, the press was already all over it and they were able to use him as a poster boy afterwards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint watched his eyes, as if searching for a lie. Then he nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” The Avenger stepped back with a smile and closed the bathroom door in his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wait. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why did Clint even care?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sir?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony looked up at the camera, even if he heard Jarvis voice in his ear. Rhodey had taken the ear piece out yesterday when Clint hadn’t been looking and Tony replaced it after the shower.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Colonel asks you to meet him in the kitchen.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony doubted that. His Honeybear had probably told Jarvis to tell Tony to get his ass into the kitchen or he would break down the guest room door whether or not it was necessary. He got protective like that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhodey was sitting at the kitchen island, a plate of twenty donuts before him and a coffee. Across from him stood the world's largest mug, filled to the brim with Tony’s favourite hot chocolate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did they-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Put five of your favorite donuts on the plate. Yes. Of course, they did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony smiled, he couldn’t help himself. If he ordered anything like bagels or donuts or some such, it was always from a small place in Lower Manhattan. It was run by a couple who had helped finance the first few weeks of the trial against Ty and Obi, when they'd had all the power of disposal about Tony’s money. It had only been like three weeks until the court had changed that, but it had taken Tony about two months before he was able to give both Rhodey and Pepper that same power, knowing they would never misuse it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the meantime, Pepper and Rhodey had raised literal hell, asking for donations when their money ran out, all the while using the media against Ty, Obi, and the court, being able to change a few laws later on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If anyone, they deserved to be icons. And they were, but their story, apparently, wasn’t as interesting as Tony’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail and Zora (and yes, Tony had made every last alphabet joke at least twice by now) had been one of the biggest donors in that time, making a baking sale for the trial and raising awareness even before the media really picked up on it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And they had done it just because they were good people and Tony had left them a big tip some time ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he had been better, he had visited them, thanking them for the help and paying them back tenfold - which had led to them demanding to be allowed to feed him - which had resulted in a panic attack he was still embarrassed about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>To their credit, they had dragged him and Rhodey to the back and after calming down, he had told them he couldn’t eat anything he wasn’t sure wasn’t drugged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Long story short, they had video cameras all over their shop now that they used as a security system and Jarvis to make sure the food wasn’t tampered with. Not that Tony believed they would. Hell, they didn’t even let anyone touch Tony’s order, even delivering it themselves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you pay them?” He sat down on the bar stool taking the first donut. It was a beauty, filled with sour cherry jam, glazed with dark chocolate and with one beautiful amarena cherry in the whole chocolate glazing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Biting into it, he sighed. Some more of the stress leaving him. This was tradition by now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jarvis took care of it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, he did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhodey had the decency to wait for Tony to finish his first donut before he looked up and Tony knew he was done for. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened, Tones?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I cut this chapter in two, so the next will probably be from Tony’s POV too :) </p><p>As work is starting again tomorrow it will take longer again for updates.</p><p>Thank you so much for all your comments!</p><p>Please stay safe, sane and optimistic if you can!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Tony: Fucking Screwed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The aftermath of the crash hits and Rhodey drags him to see his Doctor.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey everyone, </p><p>We’re almost at 600 Kudos and I still can’t believe it! Thank you all! </p><p>Special thanks to De_Marvel_Bunny and my biologist for helping with this chapter and to Spagbol99 for helping me with some Uni stuff :D </p><p>WARNING: Tony is spacey in this, aftermath of something akin to a panic attack. Mentions of those!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What happened, Tones?”</p><p>
  <span>Tony, as eloquent as ever, reacted like any rational adult would react to a question from their best friend, who was basically their big brother, whom they trusted with their life and sanity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He jumped up, pressing a hand to his mouth, making it just barely to the sink before throwing up violently. Apparently, this time the rolling in his stomach hadn’t been a false alarm. Who could have known.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhodey was only a second behind him, putting a hand comfortingly to his back, while pressing close.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, get it out. That’s it.” He rubbed soothing circles over Tony’s shivering back. “You’re safe. I’m here and you damn well know I’m gonna kill them all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead of answering, Tony coughed before spitting the residual salvia into the sink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Pushing himself up on shaky arms, he sighed. How could he have defiled one of his beloved Dark Devils like that? Opening the tap, he flushed away the evidence, trying to hide as best as he could, that he was shaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck. Today was going to suck. Not that the aftermath of a crash did not always suck, but it had been a long time since he had felt this… off. This … not here. Between floating in a ripped-out-of-your-body kind of way and too heavy to actually move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without another comment, Rhodey guided him back to his bathroom, putting the toothbrush into his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could do this. Go through the motions. He knew how to do this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Focusing solely on getting the taste out of his mouth, Tony ignored the look he saw on Rhodey’s face in the mirror. He also ignored the fact that he had seen a similar concerned look on Clint’s expression when they had been walking past him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t think of that right now. He needed to focus to stay in the moment. Right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After brushing his teeth twice and rinsing his mouth with mouthwash twice as well, Tony let Rhodey help him sit down on the closed toilet seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Placing his head on his crossed arms, Tony focused solely on breathing. He ignored the way his pacemaker-but-not-really-a-pacemaker pressed into his body. He ignored how he could feel some of the scarred skin on his back stretched uncomfortably. He ignored that Rhodey went to his knees in front of him, something few Doms would ever do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just concentrated on breathing. In 1 - 2 - 3. Hold 1 - 2. Out 1 - 2 - 3 - 4. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Focus on the moment. He was fine. He was at home. Rhodey was here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In 1 - 2 - 3. Hold 1 - 2. Out 1 - 2 - 3 - 4. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rinse and repeat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony exhaled, before nodding carefully. Rhodey was still touching him, still keeping close contact without crowding him. They had done this so often by now, that it didn’t even seem strange anymore. It was just exhausting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look at me, Tones.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inhaling, Tony followed Rhodey’s voice, looking up in the worried eyes of his best friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you dizzy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nodded. Not telling Rhodey that he had been dizzy for some time now. It had gotten to the point where he barely remembered how it was to be without signs of withdrawal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to lie down again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony shook his head. No, he didn't. He really, really didn’t want to be near a bed right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll help you into the kitchen, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nodded again, letting him take the lead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhodey muttered an almost silent curse when he saw Clint leaning on the doorframe to Tony’s bedroom, his expression carefully blank aside from some worry lingering in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does it look like it?” Rhodey almost hissed at the sub, obviously trying to appear more calm than he felt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It looks like someone had some side effects from some drugs.” Clint answered, his sharp eyes on Rhodey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you think Tony? How do you feel? Oh, thanks for asking me personally as I’m the one </span>
  <em>
    <span>knowing</span>
  </em>
  <span> how I feel, that’s so fucking considerate of you.” It was supposed to be sharp and witty. It wasn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Focusing on his breathing again, Tony ignored the self-loathing creeping in. It was normal to feel like crap after a crash. It wasn’t being weak. It was being human.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I might not know you that long, Tony, but would you tell me the truth if I asked you how you are?” Clint looked straight at him. There was no judgment in his eyes, still, it was obvious he knew the answer. It was most likely he also knew how Tony was feeling right now, as, you know, he was working at a fucking safe space for subs where this probably happened at least as often as it happened to Tony.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you think Rhodey would?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint shrugged. “He is pissed off enough to rub it in if he thinks we’re responsible.” Stepping back into the living room, he stayed far enough away as not to crowd them. At the same time it was more than obvious that he stayed close deliberately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You-” Rhodey started, obviously trying to keep calm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony didn’t need to hear what he would say to know Rhodey would start accusing the Avengers and most likely Bucky and Mr. Rogers of doing something to him. Which they hadn’t. As thought earlier, they couldn’t have known that Tony would freak just because he learned what he actually needed. And even if they had known that tomorrow was the deathday of his parents, there was no discernible reason why they should be thinking about it when inviting him. Hell, they hadn’t even invited him, Jonathan had and the kid had just wanted some help - which he clearly needed if he wanted it from Tony.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was good enough to prove that to himself again right that second. Stumbling over nothing, he was caught by Clint, who was beside him before even Rhodey was able to grab his arm harder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Easy there.” Now, Clint’s voice was calm and soothing and Tony wanted to tell him to fuck off because all of this had nothing to do with him and what did he want here anyway?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, he exhaled harshly, not pushing away but soaking in the touch of the other sub. Sinking into the feeling of safety and understanding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was so fucking screwed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s it.” Rhodey was right behind him, almost pressing his body to Tony’s back, to make sure he felt warm and protected. He always did. But never before with someone other than Pepper and them trying to calm him together had led two to major panic attacks in the past so they had stopped that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No one else would hear it, but Tony knew Rhodey was almost as freaked out about all of this as he himself. His Honeybear knew that trust didn’t come easy to Tony. Neither came physical touch, especially non-sexual touches. Since Ty… Let’s just say touches didn’t happen anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And here Tony was, letting himself be touched by unfamiliar people who he had kept secret from Rhodey and Pepper. Seriously, Tony could be glad if they didn’t actually sit on him for the foreseeable future. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had known he should have told them about the Avengers and that… illogical obsession he had started to have with them. But then, he had thought he had been holding on okay. He had been wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m calling Yinsen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Rhodey, I-” Tony tried to turn in their grip and found that they let him easily, Rhodey even stepped back far enough that he could look in his serious dark eyes - even if he didn’t let go of Tony, keeping one grounding hand on his arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t give a fuck, Tony. I wanted to give you a few days, with everything and all, but this-” He cut himself off. “Get your jacket, we’re leaving in five.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t have an appointment!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You damn well know he will make time.” Rhodey all but growled, then glared at Clint as if he was unsure what to do. Tony got it. He didn’t want to leave him alone with Clint, especially since, at least from Rhodey’s perspective, he could be a danger to Tony. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then again Clint hadn’t done anything, Tony was not totally useless at self defence - nine out of ten times, even if he would not stand a chance against </span>
  <em>
    <span>Clint</span>
  </em>
  <span>-, Jarvis was keeping a close watch on everything, and he probably didn’t want the Avenger to know more about anything, so making the call in his presence was a big no no. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you have a job or something?” It was more frustration than anything else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Funnily enough, it’s my day off.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony could hear the obnoxious smile in the other sub’s voice. He didn’t know him well enough to guess whether or not that was the truth - or whether or not today had been his day off before Tony had his embarrassing break down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What a coincidence.” Rhodey all but growled, his eyes softening when he looked back at Tony. “Five minutes. Call when you need me.” He didn’t wait for an answer, probably to not hear Tony whine that he didn’t want to go to Yinsen. Sure, he had known Rhodey would drag him there sooner or later, but he had hoped for later. Like much later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that he would actually force Tony. Not unless he thought it was a life or death situation, and they weren’t there yet. And he wouldn’t wait that long. He couldn’t do that to them again. He couldn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Closing his eyes, Tony tried to focus on this moment. On right now. There was nothing more important. Just, right now. The way his heart beat just off beat. The way the air seemed to take longer to move in and out of his lungs. The way the world seemed to shift without him doing anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was little Tony hated as much as feeling this useless. This helpless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay?” Clint whispered right beside Tony’s ear after a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Standing up, even though Clint held onto his arm - and Tony let him -, he looked back into the other man’s green eyes. There was open worry in them. His shoulders were tense, as if he was ready to do something stupid, like trying to protect Tony from Rhodey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still dizzy.” Tony tried to smile, to hide his weakness away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint didn’t let Tony distract him though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who is Yinsen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked back at the other sub. He already knew way too much to let him go without a proper NDA. And that had been before Tony had decided to show him exactly how pathetic he really was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why did he care? Why was he still here? Hell, why did he appear to be actually worried about Tony?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He is my doctor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something flashed over Clint’s face, before it vanished again almost without a trace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What kind of doctor?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was too tired, too annoyed and emotionally agitated to try to follow the other man’s line of thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The good kind.” He turned, trying to squish the feeling of relief when he heard Clint follow him closely into his bedroom. He was proof - different from Rhodey - that he was in this now. Two years ago from his torment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If he is, won’t he realize what… Colonel Rhodes gave you yesterday?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yinsen would. Hell, he knew. He hated it and had Tony told often enough that he disapproved of it. But he also understood. He had been the only Doctor Tony had learned to trust during his three month stay in the clinic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He knows.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He knows?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Putting on a black jacket and some dark grey shades, he turned back to Clint. Somehow his worry seemed to have deepened and gotten a new edge of urgency. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go home, Clint.” Tony didn’t have the strength or focus to work with the other sub right now. He couldn’t spare the brain power to be careful what he said or read into his answers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other sub just looked at him, before shaking his head. “Let me drive you to the doctor's office. I’ll leave after if you want me to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to do this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to Tony, and neither do you.” There was conviction in his voice. Worry. A promise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both turned to see Rhodey in his old leather jacket standing in the door frame. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, his expression stern. If you didn’t know him this might actually look threatening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony just rolled his eyes. “Fuck you, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You done?” Rhodey tilted his head, asking if Tony could handle a visit with Yinsen right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, mother, can you relax for five minutes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you stay out of trouble that long?” He knew Rhodey loved him. It didn’t change the slicer of real frustration and fear in the Dom‘s voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stepping forward, Clint managed to get between them. The worst thing? Tony would have probably not even realized it if Rhodey hadn’t actually growled. Clint could be damn happy he was a sub or his Honeybear would have probably already attacked him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scratch that. Tony was actually surprised he hadn’t fought both Bucky and Mr. Rogers before going to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>True to his word, Clint slipped behind the steering wheel letting Jarvis - who should get an oscar for his role as a lifeless navigation system - guide him to their destination.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony must have zoned out, focused so hard to stay in the moment he had forgotten to actually realize where they were going, as he seemed to blink and the car was already parked in the back alley behind the building Yinsen worked in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You stay in the car.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony actually flinched, as Rhodey almost used his Dom voice, something he never did in front of him, when Clint motioned to get out of the car too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint glared back at the Dom very obviously playing with the thought to throw caution to the wind and just attack the other man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, you two are insufferable.” Tony stepped out, hoping the cold was actually as biting as he thought, dragging some cold December air into his lungs, while keeping his head down and walking towards the back entrance. A nurse was already waiting there for them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good Morning Mr. Stark.” She smiled at Tony warmly. “Dr. Yinsen will be with you shortly. Do you need anything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, thank you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They followed her into the private elevator before she guided them into Yinsen‘s office. By now, it felt almost normal to come here and wait.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony had never seen one of the Doctor’s normal examination rooms, too afraid someone could spot him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blinking, he leaned back in the uncomfortable chair, exhaling harshly. Stay in the moment. Yinsen is going to help. Rhodey is with you. And you’re goddamn not freaking out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wanna tell me something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced over to Rhodey, who sat stiffly in the other chair, watching Tony carefully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re full of shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t wrong, of course. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not being threatened, are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turning towards his best friend, Tony lowered the colored shades, pocketing them.Yinsen would demand he do it anyways. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Rhodey, I told you-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t tell me anything, Tones.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There is nothing to tell you. Pepper-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t know anything! Apparently these Avengers are good people, but-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both of them stopped at the conviction in Tony’s voice. How could he know? He didn’t know! He had vetted them. He had seen their work. He had seen the subs. He knew. But only for a couple of weeks. That didn’t mean anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before either of them could say anything, the door opened and Yinsen stepped in. He was a true Switch, who had dedicated his life to work with abused subs. Unlike the other Doctors Tony had met in his days, he actually listened and took their opinion into account. Hell, he supplied Tony with the DropStop, risking losing his license even though he was against it. And for good reason.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he had been there in the beginning, he had been there for two major flashbacks and panic attacks and knew how bad it could get for Tony. That didn’t mean he stopped bitching about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony, you look like shit. Colonel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello Yinsen, it’s good to see you.” Rhodey greeted him, his eyes still on Tony.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would love to say the same to the both of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony looked at the old Switch, smiling his winning smile. “Has anyone ever told you-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only you, Tony, and you know why.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yinsen had one of the worst bed side manners a doctor could have without just being an insufferable asshole. Most often this exact attitude was why Tony liked him. Yinsen didn’t beat around the bush. He told you exactly what he thought and would do whatever he could to help you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sat down on his worn chair behind the dark desk. “So, what happened now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you always-” It was a weak attempt at banter and Yinsen, as always, didn’t even acknowledge it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a waiting room full of patients, Tony, cut to the chase.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking back into those brown eyes that hadn’t lied to him once, that had told him harsh truths and expressed honest regret for what Tony had gone through, Tony deflated. Yinsen was a good Doctor. A good person. He had always tried to help Tony. Hell, he went against everything he believed in and risked actual jail time for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The least he could do was not be an asshole, wasn’t it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony was so fucking screwed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I might have crashed yesterday.” He could do this. He totally could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhodey beside him growled, not that Tony was impressed by it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you describe that crash in a little more detail?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Balling his hands to fists, he kept breathing. Calmly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I- It was stupid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yinsen just raised an eyebrow, waiting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It really was this time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Details, Tony. You know the game.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was talking with someone and… I felt like… like I had to get out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Were you threatened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you feel threatened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...no.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why did you feel like you needed to get out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony exhaled. Slowly. Carefully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just… I just did.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you do then?” Yinsen’s voice was calm. Accepting. He had never judged anything Tony had told him. Not once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was very good, Tony. What happened then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hesitated. What had happened? He had been stupid. And nothing had happened. But Rhodey would definitely find a way to blame them- and Tony didn’t even know why that would upset him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I help… ah, renovate at a safe space for subs and- well the Doms there asked me to take a look at a wall. I… I didn’t think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did something happen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Yes. No. Nothing happened. I was feeling… spacy. I stumbled. One of them stopped me from falling on my face and I…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you go into subspace, Tony?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yinsen didn’t react to the harshness in his voice or the volume of the denial.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened next?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One of them went out and got a sub I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And that sub calmed you down?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did the Doms do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They left.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yinsen nodded. “What happened then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rhodey came, got me out. I was crashing. The sub drove us home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sub and I helped Tony get close to headspace.” Rhodey answered when Tony didn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you drop?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You took DropStop again?” There was still no judgement in his voice but worry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I gave it to him.” Rhodey sat up a little straighter. His eyes on Yinsen as if to dare him to tell them </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span> that it was illegal. To have given it. To have taken it. To tell Yinsen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are you feeling today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...spacey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yinsen didn’t react to it. He didn’t have to say anything. He knew something was off. That something has them really worried. They had never come when he could have found traces of the drug still in Tony’s system.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that he was worried about that because he wasn’t. Hell on the list of things he was worrying about it came just over getting a sunburn in fucking December. Hell, he wasn’t even really worried about anything right now. His feelings were way too… elusive right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony threw up this morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is concerning, especially since it seems you have lost weight again, but that wouldn’t be enough to get the both of you into my office.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence stretched between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhodey couldn’t answer, because he knew how absurd he would sound if he told Yinsen he was suspicious because Tony trusted someone. And he didn’t. Right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Were there any problems with your medication?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony shook his head. Both worked as they should, leveling him out and keeping him sane as best as they were able to. That he hadn’t gone into a subspace since the last time he had been forced into it wasn’t helpful, of course, but the small stuff he did with Pepper and sometimes Rhodey was enough to take the worst edges off. Most days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yinsen had never said anything, but Tony was sure he knew. His blood would tell him everything Tony didn’t - which was probably the reason he always took enough to worsen his dizziness. Or he was a vampire. One of the two. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Refusing to look away when the Doctor scrutinized him, Tony just waited. This was why he trusted Yinsen. He could come to his own conclusions. Most of them spookily correct. And he never forced Tony to say more than absolutely necessary. That meant that it was actually important when he asked something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dizziness?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Headaches?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you sleep regularly? And I mean that in the non-genius way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony didn’t answer. Which, of course, was answer enough. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would like to make a full check up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony stiffened. He had known that was a possibility, but he had hoped to not have to do it today. Yinsen would listen if he declined it right now. At least for now. Hell, there had been one time when Yinsen had actually visited him at home to make him feel comfortable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want the Colonel in here or outside?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony let his eyes flicker over to his brother, who would do whatever he wanted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here.” Admitting that made guilt and shame roll in his stomach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very good. Let’s get started, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stripping down to his undies, he was weighed, looked over every centimetre of skin - also to check he actually hadn’t been hurt, he was sure - before Yinsen checked up on his heart, lungs, took his blood pressure and asked whether or not he was allowed to check his intestines by touching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took Tony a moment, but he allowed it, balling his hands tight enough to cut his palms with his fingernails. Yinsen of course saw it and cleaned the cuts, an apologetic smile on his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Afterwards Yinsen, of course, took enough blood samples to either satisfy his curiosity or his hunger, made Tony pee in a jar, took a saliva sample and then sent them home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll call you tomorrow when I have the results. Take it easy, rest if possible and for god’s sake, eat something, Tony.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words didn’t sting as much as they could have, as the old Switch smiled at him while saying them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will do, Doc.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In retrospect it was probably good that he was as spaced out as he was. He barely remembered most of what happened and they literally had just stepped out of the office. Thankfully, he was also too spaced out to even think about that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were alone in the elevator and Tony, not so secretly, used the wall to keep himself upright- and was still trying to hide the slight shivers running down his spine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m good.” And he was. He didn’t even have a flashback just now. Sure, he focused on his breathing as if it wasn’t a reflex and he couldn’t recall how they had gotten into the elevator but aside from that and the increasing feeling of numbness and fear he was good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhodey didn’t say a word, just stood right beside him, offering his strong shoulder and warmth when Tony pressed against him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he had calmed down, they moved outside, where Clint was sitting on top of the parked car, playing with what looked like three purple stress balls he was juggling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck?” Rhodey asked, probably trying to say all the stuff Tony would be saying. If that was in his cards right now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got bored.” Clint said, shrugging.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where the hell did you get stress balls from?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A friend dropped them off.” The sub pushed himself off the car, his eyes wandering carefully over Tony and probably seeing way too much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony was so fucking screwed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you just didn’t leave with them because…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint stepped closer to Tony, his eyes warm even if his calm expression seemed forced. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Back home or do you need to go somewhere else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do know that you don’t work for me, right?” Tony pressed those words out and they sounded breathy and whiny. Way to go, Stark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is all free.” Clint moved in close, before Tony could react. “We’re friends, Tony. That’s what friends do.” He whispered, without touching him, moving back almost immediately. He winked at Tony before smiling at Rhodey who had moved behind Tony, ready to get between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t that right, Colonel?“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They bickered for the whole drive back. Tony barely even listened to it. Hell, he barely knew what was going on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jarvis, good old Jarvis, had made sure Pepper dropped a NDA in Tony’s kitchen, which Clint signed without even reading it, just nodding sarcastically and overexaggerated at everything Rhodey pointed out to him. Which could be summarized in one simple sentence: Say anything and we will sue you to hell and back again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, if I wanted to make a quick buck I would just sell one of my sextapes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have sextapes?” Tony asked, that tidbit of information getting through the fog in his brain and almost waking him up from the exhaustion that was dragging him down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not yet, but that wouldn’t be a problem.” Clint smiled, mischievously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope, not going through that again.” Rhodey pushed himself up. “I’ll set up Star Wars. It was nice to meet you, Clint.” He smiled threateningly polite at the other sub, before walking over to the leather couch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have never been kicked out in a more polite manner.” Clint stage whispered, nudging Tony’s side a little. “You text me, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking up into his green eyes, Tony didn’t ask why. He didn’t ask any of the different questions running through his mind. It didn’t matter anyways.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you don’t, I’ll just come back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why does that sound threatening?” He asked, trying for the banter they usually shared. If you could call it usually.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint laughed, good naturedly. “If I wanted to threaten you, I’d send Natasha.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ten minutes later he was, again, the filling of a blanket burrito, snuggled close to Rhodey. He didn’t think about anything. Just focused on breathing. On the warmth surrounding him. Knowing Rhodey was right beside him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t even see the first ten minutes.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading :D </p><p>Do you have any ideas what is going on :D </p><p>Stay safe, sane and optimistic my lovelies :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Bucky: What are we doing?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>We see Bucky's POV on what happened during Tony's crash and how Steve and Bucky are afterwards.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey everyone, </p><p>right now we are at 666 Kudos - and because I'm an adult I started laughing like crazy :D (Mostly because this number is higher than I would have ever thought we would get, but also because 6-6-6 :)</p><p>Have fun!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Bucky shuddered, grabbing himself harder around the middle and </span>
  <em>
    <span>forcing </span>
  </em>
  <span>the unwarranted worry down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t forget the feeling of wrongness and panic when Clint had ripped Tony from his arms. The sub had fit perfectly in them. It had felt right. The way holding Steve felt right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Having to let go had felt like losing part of himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that it hadn’t been good Clint had come to help, to calm Tony and make him feel safe. Beside the inexplicable feeling of rightness he had been close to panic. The sub didn’t trust them enough to crash with them. Hell, he still flinched when they spoke loudly. If he was in his right mind right now, he would have never let Bucky touch him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it didn’t take long for the smaller man to start shaking in his arms. It didn’t matter that Bucky concentrated on being calm, whisper in a calming tone or promise Tony, that Clint was on his way, that he was safe and that no one would hurt him. The sub didn’t know that. Not right now. Maybe he wouldn’t have believed him anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Focusing on Tony, and trusting Steve to move his ass, he kept holding on, a battle raging in his chest. Because this felt right. Tony in his arms. And it felt wrong. Tony didn’t trust him. He was falling apart and Bucky couldn’t help him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony started shaking even more violently when they heard running steps. That was a good sign, as it meant Tony at least was aware enough to hear it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint stormed into the room, not stopping to look over the scene. He was already on them, taking Tony in his arms and moving away from Bucky. For just a heartbeat Bucky thought about fighting Clint. Demanding the sub stay with him. Asking Steve to shield the hurting man with him. Hide him away from the world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let go of him, his hands falling to his sides when Clint backed towards the wall and let himself slide down while Tony started to wrap himself around the other sub. Clint mirrored the movements, dragging Tony even closer, hiding as much of him with his own arms as he could and whispering reassuringly to the genius, promising the same things Bucky had promised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was only when Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky that he realized he was silently whimpering and shivering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve…” It was an almost silent plea for his lover to help, to make this right, even if he wasn’t exactly sure what </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> was, just that it was wrong and that he needed help. That this was wrong. That it hurt like something had been ripped out of his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay.” Steve whispered, a calm in his voice that was contrary to the feelings in his eyes. He moved a little closer, pressing a kiss to Bucky’s cheek, while rubbing circles into his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need blankets.” Clint’s voice was warm and relaxed, even if his expression was hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even if the sub was right, Bucky didn’t think he could leave. Not while he knew Tony was suffering like that. Not while he knew-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on.” Steve murmured, dragging him out of the room, making sure he kept close to Bucky, his arms as much as a restraint as a warm reassurance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Tony whimpered and Bucky turned back to him, reaching out to him with his flesh arm, without taking a step closer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he could do anything he would regret later, Steve took his hand and guided him outside. As soon as they were in the hallway, his lover turned towards him, looking searchingly into his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No. He wasn’t. He didn’t say it, just stepped closer and pressed his forehead into Steve’s shoulder. Trying to hide from the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve, like the perfect boyfriend that he was, wrapped his strong arms around Bucky again and held him close, resting his cheek on Bucky’s head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Focussing on the warm hand rubbing circles on his back and the calm breathing he tried to match, Bucky forced himself to calm down. Tony needed them. They needed to help Tony. Steve would, of course, first make sure Bucky was okay, so it was his job to calm enough so that they were able to fucking help the crashing sub in the other room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he stepped back and looked into his lover’s eyes, he reached out and rubbed away the stray tears that had escaped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What the fuck was happening to them?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve didn’t answer either. Not that Bucky had actually thought he would. They wouldn’t be okay until they knew that Tony was. And until they knew what was happening to them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve tried to smile a calming smile at Bucky that failed miserably. But that was Steve for you: trying to protect everyone even if he himself was hurting at least as badly as everyone else did. Leaning forward again, he pressed a kiss to his lover’s lips, trying for reassuring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s get some blankets.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve nodded, his expression relaxing enough to not scare anyone, hopefully, and started walking, tugging Bucky behind himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They hadn’t been able to reach the Fortress before a black Audi stopped right before them and a black Dom got out of the car, radiating aggression and furious anger, all of it focussed on Steve and Bucky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That wasn’t new, of course, but highly unwelcome right now. His movements were enough to tell them both that he was military and therefore could actually pose a threat, not that he had a chance against them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve stepped forward to meet the Dom while Bucky moved backwards to the door, starting the second line of defence while sending an ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>aD</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ in the Avengers group chat, informing everyone of the situation that an aggressive Dom was standing right outside of the Fortress. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I help you?” Steve had asked, the threat audible in his voice. It most often was enough for most Doms to hesitate long enough to think at least. Not this one, though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get me to Tony </span>
  <em>
    <span>right the fuck now</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky balled his metal fist, the other still having the phone open, already recording the interaction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve’s stance stiffened, as he jutted out his chin. “There is no Tony living here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Bring me to him</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” It was barely more than a whisper, probably not loud enough for the phone to pick up on. Not that that was the real problem. No, the real problem was the hatred radiating off of the Dom. Bucky had no doubt in his mind that he would attack both of them on the spot if he thought it would get him closer to Tony. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which they could never let happen. Ever. Even if he seemed to be familiar. As if-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you Colonel Rhodes?” The man barely looked anything like the well-mannered Dom that had been presented in the media during Tony’s trial. As a decorated hero, few media companies had openly attacked him (aside from the really racist once, of course, fucking assholes). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This man though, looked very differently. Where the Colonel Rhodes in the pictures had looked in control, even during the trials, this man looked almost feral. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dark eyes of the other Dom flashed towards him. “Yes. Where is Tony?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stepping forward, Bucky put his hand on his lover’s shoulder, trying to calm him. If this was Rhodes, chances were Tony would want him there to help him through his crash. If Bucky was right. If not… if not the situation could go horribly wrong. Not that they would let it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is crashing, I know, where is he?” The Colonel growled, stepping closer to them again, not in the least bothered that he was outnumbered here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How-” Bucky started, but before he could ask how the hell the other man knew that, Steve interrupted him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A friend is taking care of him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t be as I’m still talking to </span>
  <em>
    <span>you. Where is he</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clint-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky saw the last threat of calm snap in the Colonel’s eyes just before he grabbed Steve’s collar. Biting down a threatening growl, Bucky moved a little closer, too, making sure he would be fast enough to get between them if the Colonel was stupid enough to try anything more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t give a single </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The only reason I’m not killing your right now is that Jarvis swore you didn’t do anything to him. Get me to him </span>
  <em>
    <span>right now</span>
  </em>
  <span> or I won’t care any longer that we’re in front of a safe space for subs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who the hell was Jarvis and how could he know that? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Colonel, are you-” Steve tried to calm the situation while pressing into Bucky’s touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Now</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky believed him that he wouldn’t wait any longer to start fighting them. Which they should avoid if they could. Still…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Try to calm down some.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve took a calming breath. The Colonel stepped back, his expression morphing into a blank mask. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be calm as soon as I see Tony.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Strangely, Bucky almost believed him. Just not enough to not let slip the threat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just so you know, if Tony doesn’t want to come with you, we will not let you take him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Colonel bit back a growl by pressing his lips into a thin line before smiling up at him, smugly. “No problem. Just so </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> know, if he tells me that any of you did anything to him, anything at all, Pepper and I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>destroy you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That, Bucky believed wholeheartedly. Something hard and uncomfortably hot moved in his gut, wanting to lash out and tell the other Dom that they hadn’t done anything to the sub and </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> would. That they would keep him safe and protected- but he didn’t. That wasn’t his place and the Dom would definitely kill him for even mentioning it. (Maybe even rightly so.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve glanced back at him. The next moment he stepped around the other Dom, Bucky already sending another text in the group chat ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>D here for T b rdy</span>
  </em>
  <span>’. Just in case they needed back up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stepping into the now empty apartment, Steve stopped, calling out to Clint, asking if they could come in with the Colonel. If he declined (based on what Tony might have told him or his reactions right now) Bucky and Steve would restrain the other Dom, call for backup and most likely the police. Wouldn’t be the first time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come in, but slowly and </span>
  <em>
    <span>calmly</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” The other sub called out, his voice relaxed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve glanced at him, asking for his verdict, waiting for his reluctant nod, before stepping inside the kitchen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony flinched when they stepped in, his eyes zeroing in on the Colonel almost immediately. He untangled one of the deathgrips he had on Clint’s shirt and reached out to the Dom, whimpering a heartbreaking “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Rhodey</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Colonel Rhodes moved forward like a flash, kneeling down in front of the crashing sub, his hands outstretched but not touching Tony, apparently not even realizing the tensing atmosphere around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, Tones.” His voice was barely recognizable. Now, it was warm, calm and full of love. “You’re safe, I’m here, Tones. You’re going to be okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony moved forward, touching his arm, letting himself fall into the waiting embrace of the Dom when another violent shiver hit him. The sub pressed closer to him, hiding his face into his chest and visibly relaxing when the arms wrapped around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint, Bucky noted, didn’t let go of Tony. He also didn’t move back at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m here, Tones.” The Colonel whispered into the sub’s dark locks, an almost desperate promise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony calmed down. The heartbreaking whimpers stopped. The shivers stopped being as violent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was wrong. It broke Bucky’s heart. And he hated himself for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That the Colonel could calm Tony like that was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>blessing</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That he had come now, had taken over and obviously done everything right was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>blessing</span>
  </em>
  <span>. They should be thankful. He should be happy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not feel jealous and heartbroken that it hadn’t been him who could calm Tony. What the hell was wrong with him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky met Steve’s eyes when his lover looked at him, seeing the same struggle in his expression. The same worry and fear and </span>
  <em>
    <span>disgust</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll take you home, Tones, don’t worry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky gasped, not able to hold it back when those words felt like a searing hot knife was pushed into his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll come with you. You can’t keep holding him and drive. I’ll drive. And also, I need to know he is safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something loosened just a little, when the Colonel nodded reluctantly at that. Clint would make sure Tony was okay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking directly at him, Clint ordered him to get a blanket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky stiffened. He didn’t want to go, didn’t want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>leave</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tony behind. Even if he had no right at all to think that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Therefore, he left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Forcing himself to take every new step taking him farther away from Tony. Farther away from Steve who was at least as hurt, worried and confused as him right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t matter though. Not right now. Focus on the job. Feelings later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door of the Fortress opened the second he set his foot on the first step leading up to it. Nat and Sam stood there, their expression calmly neutral as they met his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony needs a blanket.” His voice was almost emotionless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get inside.” Nat grabbed two blankets from beside the door. Of course, they were prepared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Buck.” Sam took a step back, motioning him to go inside, while Nat already rushed into the other house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know we can’t leave the Fortress unprotected.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was right. It wasn’t the reason he wanted Bucky to go inside though. But he was right. Of course, he was right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky let himself be ordered to go into the kitchen. To make coffee. While Sam stood guard at the door. He would call Bucky when anything happened. He didn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It felt like eternity but was probably only around ten minutes later when Steve stepped inside the kitchen, followed by Nat and Sam. Not that Bucky realized that. His focus was on Steve. On his devastated expression. On the way his lover’s hands were shaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wrapping himself around Steve, Bucky exhaled, harshly. He had never felt like this. This… helpless. This panicked. This terrible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other Dom shivered in his arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What the fuck was happening to them?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moving backwards, he sat down on the bench, dragging Steve with him, allowing his lover to hide away in his arms. Grabbing him more tightly, as if he thought Steve could have been taken from him like Tony- not that Tony had been taken from them. He wasn’t theirs. And he had wanted to go with Colonel Rhodes, obviously trusting the other man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking up, he met Nat’s and Sam’s eyes. Both appeared as calm as possible, even if some of their unease still shone through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck happened?” It came out a lot more aggressive than he had meant it to be. On the other hand, anger was a lot easier to handle than the bone deep fear and confusion raging inside of him, making it almost impossible to grasp onto some clarity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nat didn’t answer, instead moving forwards and sitting down in front of them, her hands open on the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Breathing exercise, Bucky.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you do. Right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Biting back the growl, Bucky tugged Steve a little closer, while closing his eyes. He was calm. He was in control. He was safe. Steve was here with him and he needed to be strong for him. Neither Nat nor Sam would have ever done anything to hurt Tony deliberately. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Breathing in, he counted his heartbeats, rubbing soothing circles into the back of his lover. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were safe. Clint was with Tony. They were safe. Everything was fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Opening his eyes, he had at least a flimsy grip on his emotions. They waited a little longer, breathing calm and controlled together, until Steve moved, sitting up, even though he pressed close to Bucky, a terrible emptiness in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” He asked again, letting his eyes wander from Nat to Sam, who was still leaning against the kitchen counter, looking worried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I fear the biology lesson was too much for him, even if it was the short version.” Sam stepped forward, sitting down beside Nat, his finger tapping an almost inaudible rhythm on the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Were there indicators that-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew he was uneasy, but there were no signs of a crash.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam had been a counselor before any of them even knew how to properly communicate, or at least what psychologist defined as ‘proper communication’, so there was absolutely no reason to mistrust him. And Bucky didn’t. Of course, he didn’t. Sam was an Avenger. They were family. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, Bucky felt like the Switch should have known.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think it was just too much new information?” Nat asked, almost as if to explain what had happened to Bucky and Steve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That and…” He stopped, as if unsure whether or not he should continue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Steve asked, his voice almost back to normal, even if his eyes were anything but.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think he remembered things from his past that the information… put into a new perspective.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was normal. A lot of their clients had been abused or neglected by their families long before they entered, or were forced into abusive relationships. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not normal was that Sam hadn’t seen early signs of Tony crashing. Not normal was that the sub was leaving the Fortress and didn’t have immediate help from someone who had gone through their biology lesson themselves beforehand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not normal was how Steve and Bucky had reacted to Tony crashing. Not normal was how devastated they were right now. Tony was being taken care of. Colonel Rhodes had done everything right. Clint was with them. There was not one good reason why Bucky felt like screaming, just because he couldn’t see the sub. Why he wanted to follow them, to make sure Tony was going to be okay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That means he didn’t get any of it in his therapy?” There was a hard edge to Nat’s voice. There were as many good therapists out there as bad ones, even if it sometimes didn’t look like it. There were a handful the Fortress worked with, knowing they were the real deal and </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> what to do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>To think that Tony didn’t have a good one… there were too many horrible possibilities of what they might have taught him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Sam leaned forward, first looking at Steve and then Bucky, his eyes sure. “His doctors probably weren’t the real deal, but he wasn’t in some training camp. And judging by Colonel Rhodes' reaction, he would have never let that happen either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky didn’t answer, even if he agreed. But it also meant that Rhodes most likely didn’t know anything real either. Not that that was surprising. Their biology lesson, although there were some places you could learn this and there were even some schools starting to teach this, was something most people didn’t know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Colonel Rhodes was, most likely, as much an ally as Bucky, Steve, and Sam themselves, standing up in court and to the world press, never budging or giving in to pressure when he demanded new laws to better protect subs, to give them more rights and to get Tony justice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was absolutely no reason to believe that he wouldn’t take great care of Tony. Aside from the sub being underweight. And all the other worrying things they had noticed. Then again, people had to heal in their own time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will Rhodes let Clint stay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky looked over to his lover, who looked down on the table, his hand clutching Bucky’s even tighter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As if he can get rid of him if Clint doesn’t want to leave.” Nat smiled, almost viciously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony also never moved away from Clint. If I read the Colonel correctly, he will accept Clint’s help when he sees it's actually working.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky hoped Sam was right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two hours later, in which Steve and Bucky had been absolutely useless, Clint texted them the first time, telling them Tony was sleeping now, that he would stay the night with the genius and that he would text them as soon as something new happened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nat and Sam kicked them out soon after, when Thor came over to take their shift at the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky felt like they should argue about it, but he could barely focus at all. What good was he to their clients?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve was even worse off than him, resulting in him dragging his boyfriend home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky ordered Pizza, seeing as Steve didn’t move at all after sitting down on their worn down couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sitting down beside him, Bucky cuddled close to him, letting Steve hold him tight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are we doing, Buck?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a good question. A damn good one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky had no idea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something was wrong. It wasn’t normal for them to react to Tony like they did. They weren’t seventeen anymore, being driven by teenage hormones. And even back then, there had never been anyone with a pull like that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe Steve would have had a pull for Bucky like that, but they had already been living in each other's pockets. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lacing their fingers together, Bucky sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think…” Steve didn’t finish the sentence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” He raised their hands, kissing the back of Steve’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t know that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, I know that, Stevie.” He pushed himself up, looking into the exhausted eyes of his partner. “I know you, love. Whatever this is, we figure it out.” He leaned forward, pressing a warm kiss to his lips. “You’re nothing like your father. You never could be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A violent shudder ran through the other Dom and Bucky kissed him again, moving even closer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey everyone, </p><p>my week has been hell again - and the next probably won't be better, but I hope it gets better afterwards... Keep your fingers crossed.</p><p>If you have any ideas and or want to join our discord, here is the link: https://discord.gg/c739kKqY </p><p>As always: your comments motivate me to no end!</p><p>Stay safe, sane and optimistic if at all possible!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Steve: Like Moths to the Light</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Steve and Bucky try to find out what the heck is wrong with them.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey my lovely readers, </p><p>we're over 730 Kudos I think and I have no idea how to thank you all. You're amazing!</p><p>This chapter was beta read by the lovely De_Marvel_Bunny and my biologist. </p><p>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Waking up, Steve remembered why Bucky and he had stopped sleeping on the couch. Untangling himself from the limbs of his lover, he stood up, biting back a groan when it hurt to stand up straight again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They definitely needed a new couch. Or to stop sleeping on it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky didn’t even blink up at Steve, just nuzzled deeper into the blanket and kept snoring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Good. He needed the rest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stepping into the bathroom, he closed the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment, exhaling calmly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something was wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could feel it in his bones. Knew it in the way everything in him </span>
  <em>
    <span>screamed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to grab Bucky and get to To- Mr. Stark. The panic had barely calmed down at all since yesterday morning. Even though they had done everything they could to do exactly that. But nothing had worked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been the early morning hours when Bucky had fallen asleep on him, Steve probably following a little later. He had probably not gotten more than three hours of sleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glancing into the mirror, he saw his own exhausted and terrified eyes. It had been a long time since he had felt this helpless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grabbed the sink with both hands, focusing on the cold porcelain instead of the memories. Bucky said it wasn’t true. Bucky loved him. And he could never love someone like Steve’s father. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bathroom door behind him opened. He didn’t need to look behind him to know it was Bucky. He had heard the familiar steps of his lover.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s going to be okay Steve.” Bucky stepped behind him, pressing a kiss to his neck before meeting his blue eyes in the mirror.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve wanted to believe him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should eat something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve looked up from the kitchen table, meeting Bucky’s eyes. His lover pushed the bowl with soggy cornflakes closer to him. They had been silently sitting in the kitchen for the last twenty minutes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glancing over to Bucky’s own bowl, he saw that the other Dom had barely eaten anything himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I texted with Thor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That got Steve’s attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He can stay until 11:00 am, so I made an appointment with Erskine for us. He can see us in an hour.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One look at the clock told him it was a favour from Erskine more than anything else, as they had an appointment an half hour before he normally started to see patients. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had talked about it yesterday and decided it wouldn’t be a bad idea to meet with their doctor. Because something was definitely wrong with them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Any news from Clint?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky’s expression darkened some, before he visibly forced to lighten up. Probably to not worry Steve even more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, but I think they're all still sleeping.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last text from Clint to their group chat had been around one in the morning, telling them that Tony had been sleeping for some time now, that he and the Colonel had helped him drink something and were now going to sleep themselves. The sub hadn’t specified it, but Steve was sure that meant he had sneaked into bed with Ton- Mr. Stark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which was fine. Good even. Mr. Stark would need all the contact and reassurance he could get.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it was so much better than thinking that the Colonel could lay down with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that Steve had any right to even think about that. Because, as he had just thought, Tony would need all the contact he could get. From people he trusted. And he did trust the other Dom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was absolutely no reason whatsoever for Steve to feel gutted because of that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” Bucky nudged him with his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lacing their fingers together, Steve tried to relax. Whatever this was, they would get over it. This was nothing compared to the stuff they had already gotten through. This was nothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No matter that it felt… big. Important. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tugging the hand closer, Steve placed a kiss on his lover's knuckles, before looking up into his beautiful blue eyes, trying to convey all of his emotions of love and gratefulness to him in this one look. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even though Bucky was clearly as distraught as Steve, he was trying to hold them both together. He always did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky lip formed a smile, almost overshadowing the worry and exhaustion in his expression. “Sap.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve couldn’t help himself, he smiled back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ignoring their breakfasts, Bucky stood up and hugged Steve to his chest, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I love you, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even if he knew that better than anything else in this world, it helped calm his nerves at least a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What can I do for you, my boys?” Dr. Erskine smiled up at them almost an hour later. He had been their doctor since they were teenagers getting into fights just because.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come in, come in, I haven’t seen you in ages. It seems you really have calmed down, haven’t you?” The older Switch motioned them to come inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grabbing Bucky’s hand a little tighter, Steve took the first step. Although they both trusted Dr. Erskine, the smell of disinfectants was enough on some days to push Bucky into a panic attack. As today wasn’t a good day, Steve was going to have to keep a close eye on his lover and do the talking, most likely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Following the Doctor into his office, Steve glanced at Bucky. He was a little paler, but met his eyes with a crooked smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What brings you to me?” The Switch had walked behind his desk and sat down in his comfortable looking chair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, Steve didn’t know how to answer that. Then, everything bubbled out of him. Or at least enough to paint a picture, describing their weird behaviour and reactions. How they were focused on Tony. How they didn’t calm down after being apart from him. How it seemed they were drawn to him like moths to the light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Switch listened to everything, not seeming worried in the slightest which calmed Steve at least a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have anything to add, Bucky?” He looked over to Steve’s lover, not commenting on the way both of them leaned against each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, my boys, I’m not sure there is anything I can do, to be honest.” Dr. Erskine smiled, kindly. “Sounds to me, like you need to ask that sub out on a date, if you want to hear the opinion of an old romantic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky’s hand spasmed in Steve’s and he understood exactly why. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dr. Erskine-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not saying your reactions aren’t a little more intense than normal, but I don’t think there is anything wrong with the two of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After doing a quick check up of Bucky’s arm, they were ushered out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One look at Bucky was enough to make sure Steve knew they were on the same page. This was not normal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, they were both attracted to Mr. Stark. He was a very attractive sub, after all. He was brilliant, had a good heart and was a fighter able to go toe to toe with Natasha. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the almost all-consuming urge that was driving them couldn’t be from simple attraction. It was going against everything they </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> was right. They weren’t slaves to their biology. They could distinguish between right and wrong. And this? This wasn’t right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was normal for a Dom to want to take care of a distressed sub. It wasn’t normal for them to still feel this agitated after </span>
  <em>
    <span>hours</span>
  </em>
  <span> apart from the sub while </span>
  <em>
    <span>knowing</span>
  </em>
  <span> the sub was safe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They went directly to the Fortress, not caring in the slightest that Thor would be there for at least two more hours. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were greeted with wary smiles and were ushered into the kitchen almost immediately. While Nat, May and Thor handled the morning rush, Steve and Bucky sat in the kitchen, waiting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, Steve was waiting. Bucky had grabbed the new laptop from the table and answered some Emails, being useful while Steve just sat there, watching him. Waiting. He couldn’t have even said what he was waiting for exactly. Clint to text again? For this feeling of life-threatening urgency to recede? That his </span>
  <em>
    <span>fudging</span>
  </em>
  <span> head cleared enough that he could actually think again? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thor got some of the subs who were already settling back into society to their places of work while May accompanied two subs to their doctor's appointments. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nat came into the kitchen and sat with them. Discussing with them, or Bucky rahter, the next steps they needed to take to get the other house finished so that they could move half of the subs into it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve just sat there. Useless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the doorbell rang some time later, Bucky and Nat got up to see who was there. They would call for Steve if they needed him. Not that they weren’t capable of doing everything on their own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve sighed, slumping a little lower on the bench. He was too wound up for this position and too tired to sit up straight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking up when the door was pushed open, he stiffened. It was Clint with a calm expression that screamed danger to anyone who knew him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fear and panic spiked again in Steve, making him almost jump up, before settling down again, knowing full well they would just tell him to sit down if he didn’t do it on his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky, who had been right behind Clint, sat down beside Steve, taking his hand in his own and pressing down on it almost painfully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tension was almost palpable, radiating off of all of them in waves. Where Bucky and he were clearly struggling to calm their worry and panic, though, Clint seemed pissed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nat slipped into the room just before Steve couldn’t take the waiting anymore. He needed to know what had happened. Needed to know how the other man was. Needed to know he was safe and better. Even if he had no right to it whatsoever. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony is not in any immediate danger.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was probably meant to calm them. It did not. Not at all. If anything, it spiked the panic even higher.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint looked at him, silencing him effectively with the heat in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He crashed when we got him back to his apartment. The Colonel and I calmed him.” There was a pause, heavy and deafening. “He didn’t reach subspace. Not really.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That wasn’t good. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He…” Clint stopped, as if unsure what to say. Which was not the sharpshooter they all knew and mostly loved whenever he didn’t piss them off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Colonel Rhodes gave Tony Drop’N’Stop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve froze. He had done </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky, beside him, growled, almost loud enough to drown out Nat’s growl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony seemed okay with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You didn’t stop him</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clint glared at him. “You think I didn’t try? Of course, I did. But he was dropping and Steve, the drop would have finished him.” The desperation in the other sub’s voice was almost enough for Steve to feel bad. Almost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fury burned through him. Hot and all consuming. Tony trusted the Colonel and he gave him </span>
  <em>
    <span>Drop’N’Stop</span>
  </em>
  <span>? That stuff was illegal for a reason! And to think that To- Mr. Stark was possibly taking it since…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell</span>
  </em>
  <span> hadn’t they seen the state Mr. Stark was in? How could they have been so careless? So ignorant and-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It knocked him out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, it had. It was basically a drug cocktail to reboot the system of the sub if it didn’t stop it permanently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The growl vibrating in his own chest mixed with the growl of his lover until Nat hissed at them both, viciously. They were in the Fortress. They were responsible for abused subs and the last thing they needed were furious Doms triggering them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that it changed anything, of course.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve could feel Bucky’s fingernails draw blood when he grabbed his hand harder, trying to fight his need to jump up, race over to Stark Tower and fight the Colonel. To save Tony. To get him the hell away from people who would allow that. Didn’t he know the death rate those drugs had?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pressing his eyes closed, Steve tried to breathe. Tried to stay clear-headed, to ignore the red haze tinting everything in blood. Bucky wouldn’t be able to calm. Not with this. Not right now. So it was Steve’s job, no matter how bad he wanted to go over there and tear the Colonel’s throat out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We stayed up for half of the night to make sure Tony was okay.” The shuddering exhale told them more about the sub’s anger than anything else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Colonel told me in no uncertain terms, that they had tried without it and that Tony had barely survived their last attempt. That he knew it was wrong, but there was no other way. That he prefered he knew about it rather than Tony doing it on his own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve bit down hard enough to taste blood. No. He- No. He couldn’t even think that. Tony overdosing himself and… Tony being alone. Suffering. Unable to…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky grabbed his head, pressing it against his own forehead and staring into his eyes. Tony was alive. He was suffering. He wasn’t healing, but now they knew about it. They could help, they could- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They could offer it. There was not that much they could actually do if Tony didn’t want their help.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Exhaling, shudderingly, Steve tried to focus on the feel of Bucky’s skin on his. On the warm puffs of air hitting him. On his lover’s blue eyes, filled with rage and desperation and love. And strength. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you didn’t kill him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both of them glanced at Nat. Her green eyes were on Clint, expressionless in a way that was all but a death sentence for the person who crossed her or someone she cared for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Colonel loves Tony like his brother.” There was no question whether or not Clint believed that. “He would do anything for him. Even go against his own beliefs to help him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Meaning?” Nat whispered, as if she feared she would start screaming if she didn’t keep herself quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He hates what he is doing but thinks it’s the only way. He is clearly more than overprotective, which, given the little things we know about Tony’s past, might even be reasonable. Still, he let me stay over when he saw I was helping Tony. He didn’t try to force me away. Didn’t try to stop me from touching Tony but kept a very close eye on me, making damned sure I couldn’t do anything to him. Hell, before leaving he had me sign a NDA that will bankrupt us all forever and might even land me in jail. I’m breaking it right now by the way.” He leaned back into his chair, not worried about that in the slightest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony was lucid when he woke up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky’s grip on Steve’s hand losened some, making it tingle as the blood started to circulate in it again. Not that Steve actually felt it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was better than I hoped. I asked him twice if he was okay. Whether or not he was okay with what Rhodes did. He seemed calm, if a little annoyed. He trusts the Colonel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That much had been obvious when he had thrown himself back at the Dom yesterday. It didn’t mean it was good that he trusted him, though. It didn’t mean that trust couldn’t hurt him. Even if Clint was right and the Colonel actually wanted to help and protect Tony. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He threw up in the morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not surprising at all. It was more surprising it hadn’t happened earlier. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Colonel decided to drag him to his Doctor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Bucky moved forward, desperation in his voice. They all knew better than to bring a sub with Drop’N’Stop in their system to a Doctor if their life wasn’t immediately depending on it. Not only would they drag them to a hospital immediately, they would be treated like criminals, and interrogated by the police as soon as they were stable. There had even been cases in which the subs had been put into holding cells straight out of the hospital.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony said it was a good kind of Doctor.” Clint’s face darkened even further. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That could mean only two things. He either was actually a good Doctor, which meant he had to tell someone or he was a Doctor who did what his patients wanted him to do. Basically a better drug dealer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fact that Clint hadn’t called them sooner meant that Tony wasn’t in danger. Meaning he most likely wasn’t in a hospital. Or he had been able to buy the Doctor's silence. In which case he most likely fell into the second category. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“While I waited in a back alley in Manhattan, I asked Loki about Dr. Ho Yinsen. Apparently he actually is the real deal. Working only with subs and Switches. He used to publish papers about ethics in medicine and the treatment of abused subs and Switches.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think he knows and tries to help as best as he can?” Nat asked, her voice to quiet, her hands pressed to the table top. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have no idea. I didn’t have time to look into him yet, but he seems to be loved by his patients and not so much liked in his field.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which got him credit, as his field most often didn’t treat subs the way they should, especially abused ones.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They came out about forty-five minutes later. Tony seemed to be good, even if exhausted.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was to be expected if he had crashed, dropped and then been knocked out with fudging Drop’N’Stop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They settled in for a day of TV when I left.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve bit his tongue. Clint had done all he could and more. He had no logical reason to be angry with him. No logical reason at all. Clint had done so much more than Steve. Had actually helped Tony and kept an eye on him. There hadn’t been one logical reason for him to stay longer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no logical reason for them to drive over. To make sure Tony was doing okay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He promised he will text me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will he be able to?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve bit back his growl, rubbing a soothing hand over Bucky’s back when he let some of it slip. This could mean a lot more than his immediate fear of Colonel Rhodes not allowing Tony to text. Which he would have no right to. Which he wouldn’t even attempt if the others were right and he actually was a good person.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It could also mean Tony might be too exhausted or weak. Which would be even worse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Clint’s eyes were hard when he met Nat’s gaze. “Tony is a fighter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fighters got tired, too. Fighters might give up, too, if the fight got too heavy or they were worn down too often. The world could be a terrible place for fighters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Nat sat back, moving her shoulders as if to loosen them. “What do we do if- when Tony or the Colonel come around?” There was a subtle threat in her words that Steve knew was meant for the Colonel. Heck, he felt the same. Still, he had to bite back a response to tell her to not even </span>
  <em>
    <span>think </span>
  </em>
  <span>about threatening Tony. Not that she would. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>People who took Drop’N’Stop were either forced to take it, didn’t know what it would do to them or didn’t see any other way. Tony would fall into the last category. Steve was almost sure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think the Colonel will come here before Tony.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That had Steve and Bucky both stiffen. There was a good chance that would end in a fight if he accused them of hurting Tony while they knew what he had done. Not that they didn’t behave poorly and should have been better for Tony.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were working at the Fortress for crying out loud! How couldn’t they notice! But even looking back, there weren’t many hints. They had known Tony wasn’t as good as he liked to pretend. They had suspected that he wasn’t dealing with the aftermath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But they hadn’t known how low he was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did Tony say anything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky flinched and Steve held him closer to himself. Bucky hadn’t done anything wrong. Hadn’t hurt Tony. None of them had. Not really. They had just not been careful enough. Had not realized… had not realized how much of his behaviour had to be a front. One that had even fooled Natasha.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you tell him anything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only that we work for the Fortress and that Tony helped around the house because as a sub he was allowed upstairs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did he pry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course he tried to.” Clint shrugged, unconcerned. “But he couldn’t do much more than glaring and repeating himself, not that I think he would have done more. He and Potts probably will dig into our histories, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did he know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve looked over to his lover, who stared down at the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did he know that Tony was crashing?” He looked up at Steve, a worried frown on his face. It didn’t do anything to hide the pain and fury behind it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He said he knew we didn’t do anything to him. How could he know that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Could Tony have texted or called him?” Nat asked, leaning forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Possible, but we didn’t see it.” Steve murmured. It was possible that he told the Colonel while being upstairs, but wouldn’t Rhodes have asked To- Mr. Stark to stay in the Fortress if he had?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think he has him chipped?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve growled again, not able to bite it back. Actual chipping was an outlawed practice that, sadly, still happened in which a sub got a tracking implant so that their Dom would be able to find them. Like a dog or cattle. Today, some people used apps for that kinda stuff. They were either keyed to the sub’s phone or a tracker placed on them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The flipside of it were panic buttons that some subs used in which they could alert their Dom or family that they were in distress or danger and get them to their location. That would actually make the most sense. But in that case Mr. Stark wouldn’t have been able to tell Colonel Rhodes that Steve and Bucky hadn’t hurt him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jarvis.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky leaned forward, a glint in his eyes. “Rhodes said </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jarvis </span>
  </em>
  <span>told him we didn’t do anything to him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All their eyes snapped to Clint, who shook his head. “Tony never told me about a Jarvis.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>None of them voiced their suspicions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just because Tony hadn’t told them about that person, didn’t mean he didn’t know them. They barely knew Tony, after all. Even if it felt different to obviously all of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think we need to get Thor or Loki involved in this?” Bucky asked, his voice quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not right now.” Nat pushed herself up. “You’re all up for your next shift.” She left the kitchen, not looking back, probably taking a well deserved break and going to the gym.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He is going to come back.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve looked up and met Clint’s eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was embarrassed about his crash, but he is too stubborn to not come back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve nodded, feeling something in his chest loosen a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony would come back. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As my beta reader informed me, the self indulgence should like have at least a little plot :D I'll try to work some in in the next few chapters :D</p><p>My last week was terrible again, but now I'm two weeks off work! So I might even have time to sleep again! </p><p>All your comments mean the world to me!</p><p>Please stay safe, sane and optimistic my lovelies!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Tony: Bad News</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Rhodey and Tony go back to Yinsen.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey everyone,</p><p>Right now Kintsugi is at exactly 800 Kudos and I really don’t know what to say except: thank you so much! You’re all incredible! </p><p>A big thank you to my biologist who basically wrote the technical side of the chapter and my beta reader De_Marvel_Bunny! </p><p>WARNING: Tony will blame himself for “letting Ty abuse him” in this chapter. It’s just a few thoughts and it’s made clear Rhodey and Pepper told him it’s bs - he’ll learn it eventually :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Waking up the next day, Tony was feeling better. Rested. Less spacey. Then he remembered that today, he would have to go back to Yinsen to be told he was the opposite of healthy. Not that he didn’t know that. But Rhodey might not know </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span> not healthy he was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Did that have to do with Tony hiding everything? Maybe. Possibly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silver lining - and it was a fucked up silver lining - today was the tenth death day of his parents. Rhodey wouldn’t kill him today. Probably. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even if he had every right to. Hell, he probably should kill Tony and be done with him. But he wouldn’t. Because he loved Tony. Inexplicably. But he did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That didn’t mean that he couldn’t be fucking angry with Tony. And he was. And he had every right to be. Especially since he had tried to find out, very nicely and respectfully, what had happened in the Fortress. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Tony hadn’t told him shit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Granted, he had been tired and out of it, so Rhodey had been calm and hadn’t pushed - not that he pushed Tony. He never did. Especially not if Tony was vulnerable like that. He would never. He was a good friend. A good brother. A good Dom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wouldn’t push Tony. But he would keep asking. And Tony understood why. Not only had he seen what had been done to Tony… but Tony also knew Rhodey felt guilty. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that he should feel guilty. Of course not! Tony had been a fucking adult when Ty had happened. And Rhodey had been overseas. And Ty had been clever. And Tony had been weak. (Even if Pepper and Rhodey had told him time and time again that it was bullshit. That it wasn’t his fault. That it could happen to everyone. It hadn’t though. It had happened to Tony and he couldn’t get Howard’s voice out of his head, telling him he was weak and useless.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing that had happened had been Rhodey’s fault. Nothing at all. Hell, he had risked everything for Tony. Was still ripping himself apart for Tony any chance he got. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If anyone should feel guitly it was Tony for fucking up like he had. For not being better. For hiding from Rhodey how bad it had gotten again. But he didn’t want to worry him. Didn’t want to put more pressure on him or Pepper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had done everything and more for Tony. They had done everything and more for subs in general.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Biting his lower lip, Tony held back a sigh. Why didn’t he just tell them? Nothing had happened. He hadn’t done anything. No one in the Fortress had done anything. Why didn’t he just tell them? Because he didn’t want to see their worry? Because if he voiced how weird he felt around Bucky and Mr. Rogers, would it change anything?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After what he had put Rhodey and Pepper through these last few years, he owed them at least to be honest with them. Hell, he had </span>
  <em>
    <span>promised</span>
  </em>
  <span> them. Had promised to never keep secrets that could potentially harm him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was this why he kept silent about it? Because he didn’t want to think it could harm him? Because if they found out, he would have to tell authorities and close them down and then Clint and Jonathan and everyone would hate him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Opening his eyes and staring at the dark ceiling, he knew that wasn’t it. He had vetted them. He had been there. He knew they weren’t a danger to those subs. None of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, his gut churned even thinking about Bucky and Mr. Rogers. Churned when he remembered how his mind had blanked when Bucky had held him close. They had been gentlemen. Not taking advantage even a little bit, obviously trying to do what was right and actually succeeding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It churned, when he thought back to the moment in the kitchen where both Doms had looked at Tony as if he was… special. Not like he was something to be used, something to be exploited, but special. Something…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony pushed himself out of bed, trying to not stir Rhodey who was sleeping beside him. He walked over to the bathroom as silently as possible, closing the door behind him the second he had stepped in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking up into the mirror he bit back a sigh. He looked like death warmed over. His eyes were dull, his hair a mess and he was even paler than before. His Italian ancestors were probably rolling in their graves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turning away, he shed his clothes before stepping under the scalding hot water of the shower. Letting it burn everything away, even if it was just for a minute. He focused on the way the hot water hit his skin and ran down his back, how his fingers dug into his own arms, stopping them from trembling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Today was just another day in a long, long row of days. Nothing special. Nothing to worry about. The press was going to haunt him. The press always haunted him. Rhodey and Pepper would be on his case. They were always on his case. Yinsen would tell him to fucking start taking care of himself. He always told him to take care.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just another day. Nothing special at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stepping out into the cold air, Tony ignored the new bruises on his arms and dressed himself in black suit pants and a white shirt. It was his armor against the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Miss Potts is waiting for you in the kitchen, Sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks Jarvis.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhodey wasn’t in bed any longer - no surprise there - and as he wasn’t in the bedroom altogether, he must be using one of the other bathrooms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Walking into the kitchen he smiled at Pepper, who had a Starkpad in front of her, typing on it, while sipping on a coffee. The kitchen island was loaded with breakfast for at least six people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morning, Pep.” Tony pressed a kiss to her cheek before grabbing himself a coffee. He inhaled the life spending fumes of his first coffee, already feeling his brain waking up, before he took the first sip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I will find a sub that looks as half in love with me as you do with your coffee, I’ll be a lucky woman.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glancing up, he met Pepper’s eyes. There was a slight strain around them even if she smiled. Not surprisingly after what he had put them through again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know if you know it, Pep, but to meet someone you have to go out sometime, you know.” Sitting down in front of her, he took another sip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will take your brilliant advice into consideration.” Putting the Starkpad away, she leaned closer, her eyes never leaving Tony’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ady found a collar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A real smile slipped onto Tony’s lips. “She did?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, we picked it up yesterday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper nodded, not elaborating. Tony hadn’t met up with them, too caught up in his own drama, preparing the cooperation with Hammer Tech - and didn’t he hate the fact that that was a thing? - finishing some projects and meddling with a few ideas.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning.” Rhodey entered the kitchen, his eyes zeroing in on Tony almost immediately, before getting himself a coffee as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The breakfast was nice enough. They managed to hold back the questions for the whole duration, probably too afraid he would stop eating if they grilled him during it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They knew him too well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All of them had learned from last year, so Pepper hadn’t scheduled any meeting for the entirety of December for Tony, making sure to have more time herself today. To be there for him. To be there with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened at the Fortress?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked up at Pepper. He should have guessed that she would try her luck today.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing. I… It was nothing. I had a conversation with Sam and Jonathan, felt like it was too much and left. Then Bucky-” He stopped to glare at Rhodey when he growled. “They asked me to take a look at a wall they want to break through. I didn’t say anything and just went with them. When I stumbled, he caught me and my mind went bye-bye. He kept me calm while Mr. Rogers got Clint. Then Rhodey came over. Nothing happened.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why did you want to get out of the conversation if nothing happened?” Rhodey asked, his voice calm, even his eyes were burning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jona is a sub there. They give them some kind of biology lesson- Sam does, he is a Switch. Jona wanted me to come along so I did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A biology lesson.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That crap, that-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course not.” Tony huffed, annoyed. “You think I wouldn’t have burned the whole thing down if they had?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened then?” Pepper asked, her voice understanding, as if bracing for the worst.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you. Both of you. I think it was just… stress.” Tony looked to the side, avoiding their eyes. Because it had been stress. Just not exactly the kind of stress they were probably thinking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because of Mr. Barnes and Mr. Rogers?” Pepper asked, carefully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blinking up at them, Tony wasn’t sure how to answer. Being alone with the two Doms was always stressful, of course, but not more than being with other Doms, current company excluded. Right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What were you stressed about, Tones?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony exhaled, carefully, controlled. Flexing his hands on the table, he didn’t know how to answer. Because of everything? Because he had seen how many people had it as bad as he himself had it? Because he was fucking ungrateful to his best friends, because they had done everything and more for him and even though they had, he still wasn’t better?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because he felt like he needed Clint, a sub that he trusted even though he didn’t know him and it felt like a betrayal to his own family?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… everything?” It was a question. It was a plea for them to understand, because Tony didn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Rhodey moved closer, pressing the back of his hand to Tony’s. “It’s okay, Tones. Thank you for telling us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nodded. He had promised them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did really good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nodded again, before exhaling forcibly. “What do we do now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean before visiting Yinsen again?” Rhodey asked, taking another blueberry and popping it into his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, mother, before we go back to Yinsen.” He rolled his eyes at Rhodey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want to do?” Pepper asked, a soft smile on her lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They wouldn’t mention what day today was. Wouldn’t acknowledge it as long as Tony didn’t first. And he wouldn’t. Not aloud. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They ended up talking. Pepper told them about her meeting with Hammer and that she had been seconds from killing the Switch just because he was that irritating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If his products wouldn’t suck, I’d say we take over his company.” Pepper growled, threateningly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughed. “Well, if you do, Miss Romanov offered to help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She did? That’s nice.” Pepper smiled, a new level of </span>
  <em>
    <span>mean</span>
  </em>
  <span> entering her smile. “I would love to see Hammer being taken down by you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what would we do with his company? Produce paper weights?” Tony asked, leaning back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You revolutionized Stark Industries, you can do it with Hammer Tech, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, I could.” Tony scoffed. “But I don’t want to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yinsen called them shortly after, asking them to come over at 12.30pm. It was when Yinsen and his staff normally took a break. It wasn’t the first time Tony had been asked to come then. Still, it made something in his gut churn again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper made them promise to call her as soon as they got back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was going to take the big black limousine and drive towards the graveyard where Tony’s parents were buried, to just circle it once and then be driven to a lunch date. It would hopefully distract the paparazzi in front of the Tower enough so that Rhodey and Tony could slip out unnoticed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before they did, Tony sent a text to Clint, telling him that he was fine. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Let me know if that changes or if you need my sparkling personality.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tony started laughing when he read the answer, showing it to Rhodey when he parked the car in the same spot Clint had yesterday. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If we need anything it’s his </span>
  <em>
    <span>sparkling personality</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Rhodey huffed, already following the nurse that had been waiting at the backdoor into the building.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You like my sparkling personality.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do. But one is enough, thank you.” Rhodey smiled at him. There was worry in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony wanted to quip, but he couldn’t make himself do it. There was a stone sitting in his stomach that got heavier the closer they got to Yinsen. He didn’t think there was anything else wrong with him, just the usual, that being his disastrous health. Still, what if there was even more trying to drag him down than it was hard enough to stand most days anyway?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They knocked at the office door and Yinsen ripped it open. The Switch smiled at them, but it couldn’t cover up that he was nervous. Never a good sign with a Doctor. Especially someone as calm as Yinsen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come in, please sit down.” He made a hasty movement towards the chairs they had been sitting in yesterday. And every other time they had been there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dr. Yinsen-” Rhodey started, a worried tone already building in his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sit down.” The Switch repeated, taking a seat himself behind the desk. He folded his hands on the tabletop. But it didn’t look in control. It looked like he did it to stop himself from showing even more of his nervousness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony had known that today was going to be a horrible day, but it seemed, it just gotten worse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got your results back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nodded. That was why he had asked them to come today. Of course, he had the results back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are underweight and if you lose another two pounds we will have to take action.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nodded. That wasn’t surprising. He didn’t look over to see Rhodey’s expression. He must have known, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your heart and lungs seem to be as good as can be suspected.” Yinsen glanced at Tony’s chest before looking back up at him. Yinsen wasn’t the Doctor who had implanted Tony’s very own version of a pacemaker with a little twist, but he knew enough about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your blood pressure was low, 90 to 60, but considering your physiological situation, it is to be expected.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony shrugged, he had always had low blood pressure. That could be, if you believed Yinsen, because he had never been actually healthy, or at least he judged by looking at pictures of Tony through the years. In any case, it was nothing to worry about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your stomach seemed to be pressure sensitive and as I know you will not agree to a gastroscopy, I will give you a prescription for it, because we both know a gastric ulcer will be in your future if you don’t change something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony groaned, lowly. He was taking enough meds as it was, thank you, but one glance to the side where Rhodey all but glared a hole right through him, he didn’t say anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just for about four weeks and will make sure it doesn’t get worse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nodded. Even if everything he was telling them wasn’t good news, it did not explain Yinsen’s nerves, obvious even now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you’re not listening to me when I say that, but I’ll try again anyway, please drink less coffee, Tony.” The Switch said it almost pleadingly. “Or at least less around your meals. You bruise like a ripe banana and it is not good for your body. I will also prescribe you some iron supplements. You need to take them for at least three weeks, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do I have to?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you want your body to have a chance, yes, you have to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony sighed. He had taken those supplements before and they sucked. The other thing he didn’t say, because he had once before and still couldn’t get over the way Rhodey’s expression had shattered, was that Ty once told him the best thing about Tony was how he bruised. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In your samples we found residues of DropStop.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No surprise, they all knew he had taken it. Still, Yinsen looked at them both meaningful, as if that would change anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We also found residues of FlexonM and RexuE.” That was even less of a problem, as these were his normal medications and if anything, showed that he was responsibly taking them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Finally something positive.” Yinsen looked back at Tony and smiled. This one so open and earnest, that Tony had to swallow hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There was the real Recue hormon in your saliva, which means your body </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally</span>
  </em>
  <span> starts to build it again on it’s own. That is really good, Tony. If you keep that up and maybe spend more time with other subs you trust, we can lessen your medication.” There was so much honest hope in the Switch’s voice, that Tony couldn’t even be angry with him that he hadn’t told Tony about the little earth shattering fact that it was healthy for subs to be close to other subs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yinsen hadn’t been the doctor responsible for him back in the clinic and he must have thought others would tell him about his biology. He couldn’t have known that they hadn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhodey beside him moved, but Tony didn’t look over to him. He couldn’t get into that discussion right now. Didn’t want to explain it or even listen to it. Not now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Especially since he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>that Yinsen still hadn’t told them what the real problem was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you keep it up, I’m sure you will feel less stressed, as the artificial Recue only suppresses the physical symptoms but does not relax you like the natural does.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was that the reason why Tony clung to Clint whenever he was near? Because he was his very own anti-stress-medication?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your Subnin and Deniolen levels are alarmingly high.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, Tony avoided meeting Yinsen’s eyes. Those hormones leveled out when a sub went into subspace. Tony didn’t, not really, so it wasn’t a wonder at all that they were high. As the following drops in the past were even worse than the symptoms if he didn’t go into subspace, Tony had decided to deal with it. And he did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even more worryingly is that your SFX10.2 levels are far too low and they shouldn’t even get that low, as you’re taking FlexonM and did take DropStop the day before.” The worry spoke out of the Doctor's voice and Tony knew he would see it reflected in his eyes, if he would look at him. He didn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It would be a good idea to start therapy again, Tony. I know why you avoid your headspace, I do. But if you let this continue-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” Tony stared down on his hands. The knuckles white from where he had balled them too tightly to fists.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t just get your prescriptions. Please-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhodey beside him exhaled. Calmly. Forcibly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think we can skip the whole blood work, because, honestly, it only gets more depressing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking back up at his Doctor, Tony saw worry in his eyes. And acceptance. And maybe something like defeat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you keep doing this to yourself, Tony, your body will give in. It can’t take this kind of stress forever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nodded. He had been told time and time again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leaning back in his chair, the old Switch sighed. “If you put everything together, it’s not hard to understand why you have the symptoms you do. Aside from the medication, you need rest. Meet people you trust, meet subs you trust and spend time with them. Try to sleep. Eat healthy meals and lessen your coffee consumption.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That sounded like literal hell, but Tony didn’t say that, as he saw the real concern in the other man. Also, he could practically </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> Rhodey vibrating from right beside him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he knew that Yinsen was still holding something back. Saw it in the way he flexed his hands. Heard it in his desperate tone and the way he looked at Tony. There was still something he hadn’t told them. Something that he needed to tell them and apparently didn’t want to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Judging by everything he had just told them, Tony wouldn’t be surprised if he was actively dying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, that would have been the better option.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There was also something else in your results.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A warm hand nudged his and he looked over to Rhodey on reflex. His dark eyes were pissed and annoyed but also worried. Without thinking about it, Tony grabbed Rhodey’s hand, holding it tightly. Maybe more for Rhodey’s benefit than his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t understand the findings so I sent them to a specialist.” Holding up his hands, he stopped both Tony and Rhodey from exploding in his face. Additionally to his medical confidentiality he had signed an NDA that would bankrupt him before sending him to prison.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She didn’t get a name or any information from me. Just the data.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What kind of specialist is she?” Rhodey asked, a low growl in his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She is a biochemist who specialises in analyzing unusual hormone and blood results.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And?” Tony asked, finally about to lose his patience. Whoever that biochemist was, Yinsen wouldn’t have brought it up like this if he didn’t know what was going on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I met her during my studies. She is one of the top people in her field. We’re still in contact so I asked her for a favour and sent her your results.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, thanks for the histroy lesson, could they fucking finally get to the point where Yinsen told him what the fuck was wrong with him now?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As she is the expert in… that field… she is the better person to explain it to you. The both of you.” He looked from Tony to Rhodey, who was grabbing his hand tightly enough to leave bruises.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking at the clock on the wall, he opened his laptop. “She is waiting for our video call.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, you can’t just-” Rhodey started to protest, but one look in the Switches’ eyes shut him up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please trust me, Colonel. It will be easier like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hearing the laptop trying to connect the phone call, Tony exhaled, slowly. Whatever this was, he knew it would be bad news.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I’m almost done with “Hydra’s Revenge” the Fic I’m currently hyper fixating on. Afterwards I might focus more on this one. We’ll see :) </p><p>Thank you so much for all your comments! They mean the world to me! </p><p>Please stay safe, sane and optimistic!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Tony: DreamTeam</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tony and Rhodey are still in Yinsen's office and learn what is happening to Tony.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey everyone!</p><p>We're over 850 Kudos as of now and... I really don't know how to thank you.</p><p>All my thanks go, as always to my beta reader De_Marvel_Bunny and my biologist who basically wrote this chapter and I threw some psychology and 'magic' on it :) Thank you both!!!</p><p>WARNING:<br/>harsh thoughts of Tony against his own biology and what he expects people might want from him. If you need more information, please write me a comment; also a panic attack</p><p>Please, enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Ho, how good to see you.” It was a female voice, happy, almost giddy, if Tony had to label the emotions in her voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cho, thank you for doing this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no problem at all. I can’t wait to meet them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony stiffened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cho, you remember-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” There was a new tone in her voice, this one much more professional. “I take it they are already listening?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yinsen nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In that case, hello. My name is Helen Cho, I’m a biochemist and practicing doctor. My speciality is analyzing and interpreting unusual hormone and blood results and everything around DreamTeams.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony scoffed. Even if he had wanted to, there was no way he wouldn’t have laughed at that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand your scepticism. I studied this phenomenon for years and there are still a lot of aspects that we don’t understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony bit his lip to keep quiet. Glaring at Yinsen he was about to just stand up and leave. Up until now he had thought Yinsen was a good doctor. Hell, he had risked everything for Tony and even accepted all the short meetings and NDAs. But this?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If you believed Hollywood, and you should never, ever believe Hollywood, being a part of a DreamTeam was the best thing that could happen to anyone, but especially a sub, as they would finally find their rightful place beside a Dom that would give their meaningless lives a purpose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony especially loved the movies where the Dom was an asshole and showed abusive tendencies and the sub had a carrier and at the end of the movie the Dom was still an asshole but a little less so and the sub gave up everything to be with their DreamTeam partner as that was the only thing everyone wanted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, thank you. If he didn’t know that the whole DreamTeam thing was bullshit he would throw himself out of the window right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you would allow me, I would like to explain everything, because it has very little to do with what Hollywood shows in the movies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah, so she was a mindreader, too. Great. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That would be best.” The growl in Rhodey’s voice, Tony was sure, was half for Cho and half for Yinsen. Or maybe a little of the growl was meant for him. Because of course, Tony would have some bullshit test results getting all the freaks excited.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As a medical professional I’m bound to confidentiality and I am willing to sign any NDA you think is necessary. I believe it will be easier to explain everything face to face.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony stiffened a little further. He glanced over to Rhodey who was waiting for his decision. There was no hint in his eyes as to what he would prefer. Even if both of them knew that any of the findings could bring the whole wrath of the press down on them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shaking his head, Tony pressed himself a little more into the chair, his hand grabbing Rhodey’s harder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After you signed the NDA.” Rhodey said, calm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Please send it to me as early as possible.” There was an eager tone in her voice that made Tony all but sick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If we continue to work with you, we will.” There was a not so subtle threat in his honey bear's voice now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I- My apologies. Sometimes I get a little excited.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As we still don’t know what's </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it might be a good idea to tell us.” Rhodey’s voice had gotten even more threatening. Not that it worried Tony, not really at least. Rhodey’s thumb stroked the back of his hand, trying to calm him, even if Tony could almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> the stress Rhodey was under right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, well Ho, Dr. Yinsen, has already informed you about your… critical health situation. My findings aren’t so much indicating that something is wrong, rather than that your hormones have changed due to meeting your DreamTeam counterpart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that he hadn’t known that was what she would say from the second she mentioned DreamTeams but… no. Just no. It was bullshit. Hollywood approved bullshit that was shoved down anyone's throats trying to sell love to people and making them so desperate for it, that they would stay in abusive relationships. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hell, DreamTeams and those movies were actually selling points for a lot of products for subs and magazines, promising those poor souls they would find </span>
  <em>
    <span>true love</span>
  </em>
  <span> if they just used that technique, stopped eating and lost anything resembling a personality or free will.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That hadn’t been Tony’s reason, probably, but it didn’t change what those kinds of messages did to people, especially teenagers not knowing better than to believe the shit presented to them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hell, Disney had taken up the phenomenon and been able to warp it even worse than the old fairy tales. Being part of a DreamTeam, according to those movies, was meeting your soulmate, your true love and because of that, the sub not only happily gave up any agency, they also became the perfect little slave to whatever the Dom wanted. And as they were a DreamTeam it meant it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>romantic</span>
  </em>
  <span> and the </span>
  <em>
    <span>right thing</span>
  </em>
  <span> because how could anyone not want that?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>News flash, assholes, Tony didn’t. He didn’t want to fall to his knees in front of </span>
  <em>
    <span>anybody</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Didn’t want to be a mindless doll, in a best case scenario and a fucktoy in the worst. He’d rather kill himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t believe anyone would be desperate enough for love to give themselves up like that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aside from Asshole Doms™, who liked to use it to not only be assholes, but also explain that it gave them the right to be assholes, as that was what subs liked. Because, of course, subs </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be treated like that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Balling his free hand into a fist, Tony forced himself to keep breathing calmly. He met Yinsen’s eyes over the open laptop. He had helped him these past two years. He had been there for him. Had done everything and more to help Tony. The least Tony could do was give him the benefit of the doubt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Before we go into details about the DreamTeam and what it might mean for you, I want to rehash some of the biology happening.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony bit back a groan. Why the fuck was everyone trying to teach him fucking biology! He couldn’t care less for the wet sciences - actually that wasn’t true, he did care a lot less about social science, although he didn’t even acknowledge that these were even considered </span>
  <em>
    <span>science</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhodey glanced over to Tony, something like a question in his eyes. The Dom didn’t think much more of DreamTeams than Tony, but, as he would tell Tony again and again while he had been healing, knowledge was power. And knowing what was happening to you meant you could learn how to use it or how to protect yourself from it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony exhaled, harshly but nodded. They would listen to her. And if she was as full of shit as he believed her to be, he would ruin her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Explain.” Rhodey’s voice hadn’t changed much, but lessened the edge, being just a little less cutting then before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” There were real feelings in her voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For the sake of making this explanation as straightforward as possible, I will only use the designations Dom and sub. It goes without saying that the same biochemical reactions will of course happen when either or both of the individuals are Switches.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony blinked. She was right of course, it would make the explanation probably at least a few minutes longer if she would always say </span>
  <em>
    <span>a Dom or dominant Switch</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The fact that she addressed it at all was what surprised him. Okay, she got one tiny plus point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Subs produce Subionyl, the sub pheromone. As soon as a Dom gets in contact with it, they produce AffetcinSUB which informs them that a sub is near or that the person in front of them is a sub. Same goes for Domionyl, of course. It informs the sub that the person in front of them, or nearby, is a Dom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Biting back a groan, Tony kept quiet. Did they all have to start with Adam and Eve? He got it, they thought he was stupid with this whole biology stuff. Get on with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The only difference is, that subs, especially if they had… bad experiences with Doms, get triggered by the Domionyl and also produce Stressnin and Helpyl.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bad experiences</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Aha. Was that what it was called now? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Biting back the fury, Tony kept breathing. If he was generous, and he didn’t really feel all that generous right now, he would assume that Yinsen hadn’t told Dr. Cho what he had been through - he better not have, or Pepper would sue him to hell and back again - and she had guessed because Tony was Yinsen’s patient. And because of the DropStop in his system… and all the other asshole hormones and stuff ratting him out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stressnin and Helpyl are, of course, there to help the sub, letting the people around them know that he is in distress.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And what a help that was when the person you were stressed about tried to calm you. Seriously, who thought up that shit? Who had approved that concept? If anyone at Stark Industries came up with such an idea, Tony would either send them back to the drawing board or fire him on the spot - and yes, he would deside that probably because of their designation, sue him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They will try to help the sub and calm them down. Although it is important to know, that a Dom, no matter what they might tell you, will </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>suffer ill effects when they can’t help the sub or are even sent away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony raised an eyebrow. She knew that too?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even though the AffectionHOX they produced as a reaction to the Stressnin and Helpyl will affect them and will make them want to take care of the sub, the effects are almost gone as soon as they leave the situation. There are of course exceptions where it takes the Dom more than 15-30 minutes, especially if they have a deep emotional attachment to the sub, but even then, they will calm down soon enough.” There was an almost annoyed tone in her voice at that, as if she was used to arguing this point with Doms telling her that they couldn’t leave a distressed sub and that a </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span> from them in these kinds of situations couldn’t or shouldn’t be taken seriously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glancing over towards Rhodey, he saw his brother relax too. Not much, just a little. Whatever designation she was, at least she seemed to be not one of </span>
  <em>
    <span>those</span>
  </em>
  <span> Doms. Not that Tony believed Yinsen would keep contact with someone like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When a Dom and a sub scene together, both partners produce Hidon, an attachment hormone. This hormone helps both partners connect and is basically there to help the sub reach a safe headspace. This is a pure biochemical reaction, which means there doesn’t have to be feelings from either partner and it will also be produced in an abusive relationship or non consensual scene to protect the sub.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Swallowing, Tony tried to keep breathing calmly. What a great thing from his body to </span>
  <em>
    <span>help </span>
  </em>
  <span>like that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After those basics, I would like to explain a little more about the term DreamTeam.” There was a small pause and then the clicking of a cup or water glass being put down on a table. “The earliest reference to it was found in the ruins of an Inca temple. The translation means something like </span>
  <em>
    <span>the one that came to me in a dream</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Every civilisation has stories and myths about DreamTeams, although their position in society and the meaning of it changed quite rapidly. Where the old Greeks believed them to be puzzle pieces that were made by the gods to complete each other and Europe in the Dark Ages thought it gave the Doms total control over their subs, other cultures thought of them more like compatible partners who would compliment each other better than others would.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The über-romanticizing of the DreamTeams started in the 18th century. There are quite a lot of studies working to answer </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> a lot of cultures started to romanticize the concept around that time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In my field the term DreamTeam describes a high biological compatibility between a Dom and a sub. There are cases of same-designation DreamTeams but they are even rarer. The connection here is purely biological. Which means, even though you actually can imagine it like puzzle pieces that are made to connect with each other, DreamTeam counterparts are not Soulmates.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony tasted blood, only realizing now, that he was biting his lip hard enough to have split it. Licking it away so that Rhodey and Yinsen would hopefully not see it, he kept breathing as calmly as he could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Being part of a DreamTeam doesn't automatically mean you have the perfect relationship. It doesn’t mean you become the perfect sub or that your partner is a perfect Dom. To be quite frank, Hollywood has discredited and perverted the term enough that most scientists almost lose their credibility as soon as they start working with it.” There was real anger in her voice, highlighted by how factual it had been before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“DreamTeam counterparts do not have to enter a relationship. Even if they end their relationship there are no negative consequences aside from the normal consequences that a break up entails. If they want to enter a relationship they still have to get to know the other person. Being a DreamTeam doesn’t change the awkward phase any lovers have to go through. Being a part of a DreamTeam does not entail being dependent on their partner and it does not take away your free will or agency.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Exhaling shakily, Tony wondered whether or not Hollywood and the whole become-the-perfect-sub-industry might be the ones trying to willfully discredit the scientists working on the topic DreamTeams. Because if Dr. Cho was right, then all those people with the fucking movies and products could take their stupid shit and burn it. And judging by the empathy in the voice of the Doctor, she would be kind enough to organize some fuel and light it all on fire on her own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’re interested, I can send you some papers from people I worked with who are trying to understand the phenomenon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nodded immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, that would be good.” Rhodey’s voice was still harsh, but calmer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. Either you will give me your email address or I’ll send it to Dr. Yinsen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Send it to me, please, Helen, I would like to read it, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” Dr. Cho said, and even though Tony didn’t know her at all, he would have bet she smiled at Yinsen while she said that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, back to why I explained the whole Subionyl and Domionyl thing. Because, even though we haven’t been able to pinpoint the pheromone responsible for it, we know there must be an additional pheromone to them when DreamTeam counterparts meet each other. We think it might be a little like for a Switch that produces both Switchionyl and either Domionyl or Subionyl. In case of a Switch as a DreamTeam counterpart, they would, of course, produce that additional pheromone as well. The only reason we know it exists is that we were able to identify the effects of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The DreamTeam Dom seems to only produce that pheromone while in the presence of their Dream Team counterpart. It is irrelevant what designation the other DreamTeam partner has in that instance. If the Dream Team counterpart is a sub, or a submissive Switch, of course, the Dom will produce more Hioxyn, an attachment hormone, and small amounts of AffectionNOX. If the partner is a Dom or a dominant Switch they produce Hinmoxcin and AffectinREX. I’ll explain those in detail a little later.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. Hell, he wasn’t even sure why he nodded. To acknowledge she would tell him even more he was supposed to remember? He was still reeling from… well, everything, actually.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The DreamTeam sub produces the DreamTeam identification pheromone continuously, which, probably, has the purpose of informing other Doms or Switches that the sub is protected. As this is only happening on an unconscious level, we can’t be sure, yet.” She didn’t sound put off by that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Worldwide there are about 12.000 DreamTeam connections, only about 8.000 of those are Dom and sub relationships. In North America we estimate there are about 850 DreamTeam connections. As we only have a little less than 400 samples to work with, there are still a lot of things we don’t know about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, Tony almost understood the excitement Dr. Cho had shown in the beginning of the phone call. Being able to find some new poor asshole trapped in a DreamTeam connection must be like Christmas to her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Back to the attachment hormone Hioxyn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony sighed inaudibly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is being produced from the moment the DreamTeam counterparts meet for the first time and then accumulate to a normal level. In the beginning this new hormone often triggers a stress reaction in the individuals, which means their bodies produce adrenaline. The same happens when Dom and sub are close together or touch, the Hioxyn spikes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony did not look over to Rhodey and did his very best to ignore how he seemed to try to glare a hole into him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If the sub is already stressed or… not healthy, this can lead to a crash or stress drop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhodey’s hand spasmend on his and Tony didn’t need to hear his hiss to know he was pissed and had probably just decided that it was Bucky’s and/or Mr. Roger’s fault that he crashed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which was bullshit. Not only was all of this bullshit so it didn’t mean anything anyway, but they hadn’t done anything. Tony hadn’t been strong enough, hadn’t said no to going with them. They hadn’t done anything at all. They couldn’t have known how weak and pathetic he was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Normally, the Hioxyn is intended to help the sub, to calm them and make it easier for them to trust the Dom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh great, so no manipulation whatsoever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Hioxyn in the DreamTeam Dom is intended to heighten the protective instincts in them, but also their want to make the sub happy and respect their wishes and boundaries.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah, sure. Did that mean, then, that other Doms didn’t? It didn’t really seem like Dr. Cho wanted to make this case, but a voice in the back of his head couldn’t help point out that his explanation would be able to be used as an excuse for abuse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In DreamTeam Doms the production of Hioxyn is also stress-inducing to them, but their bodies accept it easier. After that, the spikes of the Hioxyn produce a good feeling whenever they are close to their DreamTeam sub. In some experiments it was enough for them to know that their DreamTeam sub was happy and cared for, for the Hioxyn to spike.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, that was the reaction a Dom had to that hormone. Tony was pushed into a crash and they were feeling good just by pretending the sub was happy. Stupid Doms and their better functioning bodies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In difference to the normal attachment hormone Hidon, Hioxyn is affected by Cortisol and can be even nullified if the sub is in distress. If the DreamTeam is in a scene and the sub is stressed, the Hioxyn will not be able to counteract the stress and the sub will not be able to be, for lack of a better word, pushed into a headspace. They will of course produce Hidon, but that too, will not be enough. For them to scene together so that the sub can reach subspace again, they will have to work on their relationship. That, of course, has no impact on scenes with other partners.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Did that mean that a DreamTeam partner would have </span>
  <em>
    <span>less</span>
  </em>
  <span> ways to manipulate a sub than any other Dom walking by the window? That… seemed counterproductive. For the DreamTeam connection and anyone who wanted subs to think they could ever trust a Dom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hell, Hollywood and that whole industry must hate her. That alone would be a good reason to work with her, just to stick it to them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s get back to stress reactions for a moment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony almost smiled, sardonically. Yeah, let’s get back to stress reactions. If anything could bring him closer to another crash it was talking about the medical side of when his brain and body decided to shut down and embarrass him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When the sub produces Stressnin and Helpyl it triggers in the DreamTeam Dom not only AffectinHOX, the normal stress hormone in Doms, but also AffectinNOX. Low levels of the AffectinNOX only inform the DreamTeam Dom that his compatible partner is close. If it gets triggered by the Stressnin and Helpyl though, it multiplies the effect of the AffectinHOX, which means the stress reaction towards their DreamTeam sub is a lot stronger than the reaction to a different stressed sub.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In contrast to the AffectinHOX, which will stop affecting the Dom after about 30 minutes, the AffectinNOX takes a lot longer to leave the DreamTeam Dom’s system, which means even if the Dom leaves the situation, they will be affected for about 24 hours. That includes their wish to be close to the sub, caring for them and keeping them safe.” Dr. Cho cleared her throat, just a little bit, but it almost seemed as if she was uncomfortable with the topic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why should she be? Just because that basically meant Tony had put Bucky and Mr. Rogers through a day of hell? Not that he had, of course not. Because all of this was bullshit. Of course it was bullshit. They hadn’t been affected like that. They had been able to leave him no problem and he didn’t even believe DreamTeams were real, for fuck’s sake!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t change the sliver of unease and something that most definitely wasn’t guilt settling in his stomach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If these kinds of stress situations keep happening or don’t get resolved, the Dom will start to produce a stress pheromone called ZarfiG, when AffectinHOX, AffectinNOX and Cortisol spike enough to get over a threshold. That triggers one of two reactions in the DreamTeam sub. Either they release a cocktail of hormones to be more trusting towards the DreamTeam Dom so that they are able to take care of them and keep them safe so that the Dom can satisfy his need. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But even so, the sub is still able to decline any action and if he does, the Dom will listen to them and stop whatever they are doing, because while in that situation, all the Dom wants to do is take care of the sub. There are actually a few studies about those situations. Most subs explained afterwards that they could have said no, but didn’t as they knew they and their partner would feel better after letting them do whatever they needed to make both of them feel safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony didn’t even have time to feel sick about that, as Rhodey, his honeybear, growled furiously beside him, making Tony’s hairs on the back of his neck stand up straight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rhodey-” He whispered, grabbing the hand that was still clinging to him with both of his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand your reaction, but there is no indication in the samples I have looked at, that the DreamTeam sub has been in contact with ZarfiG yet. The Hioxyn levels are too low for that and I couldn’t find any neurotransmitter indicating it either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meeting his honey bear's eyes, Tony leaned forward, grabbing his brother around the neck and dragging him closer, to press his forehead against his. “I’m fine, Rhodey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t answer, just closed his eyes, breathing carefully, as if to not stress Tony any further. It took him a few moments, before he calmed down enough to move back onto his chair, his hand still holding onto Tony as if he believed someone would be stupid enough to come and snatch him away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please continue, Helen.” Yinsen said, his voice strained, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The other reaction... “ She inhaled, as if bracing herself - and that was never a good sign.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The other reaction happens when the body chemistry is already out of balance. Mostly if the sub has been abused before. In that case the ZarfiG triggers a sub crash or stress drop in the DreamTeam sub. Both can be handled like a </span>
  <em>
    <span>normal</span>
  </em>
  <span> crash or drop, meaning it doesn’t have to be the DreamTeam Dom to help them through it. Another Dom they trust or a sub will be able to calm them just fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just fine. Oh, yes. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>just fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He hadn’t lost almost two days because of his last crash. He hadn’t dragged Rhodey and Clint into it too. Just </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking </span>
  </em>
  <span>fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glancing towards Rhodey, he saw a similar thought crossing his eyes. As Dr. Cho was already talking again, he didn’t say anything. Yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If the DreamTeam partners are in direct contact, the hormones AffectinTOR and AffectinTOM will be triggered in the sub in addition to the Hioxyn. AffectinTOR is being produced since their first contact and has two jobs. The first is to produce a modified variation of the DreamTeam sub pheromone to inform the Dom, who is able to detect it even after hours in, for example, a store or an apartment, where the sub has been and whether or not they have been in distress. That is probably to heighten the interest in the Dom. The second function is to heighten the interest of the sub towards their DreamTeam partner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Exactly what Tony had needed. Although, it would explain his fixation on the attractive and interesting, if not to say endearing, qualities of the two Doms that he was meant to, and tried to, ignore. And he had. Of course, he had. Also, DreamTeams were two people. Not three. And destiny, the world and everything in between couldn’t hate even him enough to punish Tony with </span>
  <em>
    <span>two</span>
  </em>
  <span> DreamTeam Doms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hell, he was not going to accept there was even one, damnit!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“AffectinTOM is only produced if the sub is in close proximity to the DreamTeam Dom or if they are touching. It suggests safety and triggers Recue, the safety hormone and GRND42, the grounding hormone to make them feel relaxed. Both can be influenced by Adrenaline or Cortisol, meaning a distressed sub will not feel safe or relaxed or is only minimally affected by it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whoopti doo. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just to make this absolutely clear, there is no dependency between the DreamTeam partners, even if some of what I just said might suggest it. The hormones do have some pull, like a fascination, but they can’t make you dependent on your partner. They can’t force you to anything. As soon as the body is familiar with them it will get even easier to ignore them, especially if you keep your distance to the DreamTeam counterpart. People have described it as comparable to a sock that has slipped inside of your shoe. It can be annoying from time to time, but it doesn’t affect your decisions. It doesn’t hurt you.” She said it with so much conviction Tony actually wanted to believe her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The only real advantage of being with your DreamTeam is that if you scene together, the sub will produce the hormone HOPE, which will make them feel better for a longer time than just the spiking of SFX10.2 and the Dom will also feel more relaxed for a longer time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Tony barely remembered a good subspace that didn’t end in terrible pain, a drop and/or a panic attack, he would have to believe her in any case. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that was a lot right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She could say that again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even though Tony was a genius, he wasn’t sure he remembered even half of what she just told them. He also wasn’t sure if he believed it. If he…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can call me any time, or write an email. Whatever you’re more comfortable with. I would like to help you adjust to the situation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony believed her. Even though he strongly suspected she also wanted some new test objects. Right now, he felt too exhausted to get angry about that - and later he might be honest enough to realize he could understand it from a scientific perspective. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just remember, please, you do not have to do anything you don’t want to do. Being part of a DreamTeam does not mean that you have to start a relationship with that person. You are not obligated to be happy about this. You are not obligated to go through with it. You can decide freely what you want to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Closing his eyes, Tony waited for the </span>
  <em>
    <span>but</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He knew there was one coming. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s important for you to inform your doctors about it, though, because of the changed body chemistry. Also it is important to make agreements with your DreamTeam counterpart so that they know what to do with a stress drop, a crash or an unplanned falling into headspace that might occur.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony gasped, trying to fight off the rising panic. Rhodey was instantly there, grabbing his head and pushing it between his knees. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, Tones.” He whispered, pressing his cheek to his head. “It’s not going to happen. We'll find a way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s unlikely that it will happen.” Yinsen must have stepped right beside them. He wasn’t crowding them. Wasn’t touching Tony, still, he shivered violently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhodey’s arms tightened around him, keeping him close. Keeping him safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, Tones, we’re going to handle this. You’re going to be alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony barely registered that Dr. Cho explained it was law to inform both partners of a DreamTeam. Barely registered that he wouldn’t be able to take a pheromone inhibitor because of his normal medication. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barely listened to the medication the DreamTeam Dom would be able to take to make it easier on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if a Dom would do something like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t answer, just pressed closer in Rhodey’s arms when Dr. Cho asked if he had an idea who his DreamTeam counterpart could be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhodey didn't answer her either, his arms just flexing around Tony for a moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He barely acknowledged her advice to test all Doms and Switches he met for the first time in the last couple of weeks. Doesn’t acknowledge that Rhodey almost growled when he promised he would make that happen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was it possible that this was a payback because he hadn’t realized what Obie had done all those years? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t react when Yinsen offered to test all of the contenders. He didn't look up when Rhodey told him he would get all of them into Yinsen’s office tonight after hours.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He agreed, when Rhodey asked him if he wanted a mild sedative. Yes. He would take a frying pan right now if it would make him stop thinking. Stop spinning. Just make it stop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn't take any information in afterwards. Didn't even know how he got into the car. Or into his bed. All he knew was that Rhodey was there the whole time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All he knew was that he was fucked.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading! Any thoughts :D</p><p>Please stay safe, sane and optimistic my lovelies. It will get better!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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